


Flying Koshka: Alternate Storyline 1

by Extraho



Series: Gains and Losses [2]
Category: Dexter (TV), Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Bigotry, Flying Koshka, Infidelity, Kidnapping, M/M, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-17
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-06 02:49:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13401840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Extraho/pseuds/Extraho
Summary: This alternate storyline explores what would have happened if a crucial turning point in Jax’s life didn’t happen quite the way it did in the original Flying Koshka. This story picks up from Chapter 14 (Part One, 1.14)Jax is seriously considering leaving the Sons.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a dozy! There are so many ways in which this story could have gone differently, and I figured I'd share some of them.

  
  


  
Jax laid nuzzled against Isaak’s chest. The last week had been tense for Jax. He and Clay were clashing like never before. That Caracara was successful was driving Clay mad. Jax was currently on top on that fight, so he had taken Clay’s thinly veiled threat of needing to “-back off,” to heart and taken his scheduled time off from the club. Perhaps he’d even stay a little longer.

The club still believed his bullshit about him seeing a high class lady. He had never lied. Donna had done that for him, and Ope had done the rest. As far as many were concerned, Tara was his lady in Charming, and as long as Tara didn’t care about his trips, neither did anyone else. 

With the way things were going with the club, Jax couldn’t see a clean way out anymore. The club was bleeding, but it seemed like he was the only one trying to stem it, trying to keep them whole. Perhaps it was time he stepped away and considered himself and his son first for a change. Patch nomad. It broke his heart to think about leaving the club, but perhaps it was the best thing? He wouldn’t be alone like the others. He’d be with Isaak. It was a chance to spend more time with Isaak. Losing the Redwood seat was worth the life he could have with the man he loved, and see his son grow up safely. After a while, a couple of years he could patch out completely without much drama. Perhaps he could re-enlist? He imagined Abel going to a good school, no bullets flying around his head. If Jax died in the line of duty, at least he could proudly say his daddy was a marine, and not a outlaw gun-slinging criminal. It made him a little giddy to think of Isaak finally holding his son. He hadn’t seen Abel since he was born, and Jax couldn’t take Abel so far away from his doctors, not when he was so little.

To imagine, being like this, but with Abel sleeping between them, it was a dream Jax had never thought would be possible to realise. But now, perhaps his break with Clay could bring something good to his life?

  
#

  
After he woke, Isaak sat in his chair, by the window, watching Jax sleep. Such a beautiful boy he was. Seeing him laying there, cocooned by masses of white sheets, collars gleaming in the sun was intoxicating. He could already see the redness and raised skin where his whip had landed. The faintness of bruises around his wrists. Underneath the sheets he knew his hands would have left dark marks on his hips.

Knowing how much Jax loved being marked by him…

It made him think of how much Victor hated being marked. Even their trip to Santorini had been plagued by their growing incompatibility. Isaak had looked forward to spend time with his partner, but Victor was pulling away from him - in a much different way than before. Isaak was sure that Victor felt threatened by Jax, but in truth, there was no need.

He was very fond of Jackson, but Victor was his partner… but yet, when he looked at Jax, he felt warm, while with Victor, for years he had felt little but apathy. Jax made him smile, and Victor was always picking a fight.

Jax was sweet, warm, trusting - oh so trusting. Isaak closed his eyes. How he loved sitting right here, with Jax sitting on the sheepskin between his legs, cheek resting against his thigh, listening to Isaak read for him. How many times had Jax fallen asleep curled into his side while he was working? How many mornings had he been woken with sweet kisses and the scent of coffee. How may time had he had to physically restrain himself not to burst with joy?

Any thought of Jackson flickering through his mind was a high point in his day.

But he loved Victor.

Victor filled every nook and cranny of his heart. There was no room for anything else. Even his sweet sunshine Jackson.

His conviction was real, but even as he told himself it was the truth, Isaak felt a bitter taste upon his tongue. Victor had been his partner for over fifteen years, nearly seventeen, he thought, without actually counting. A part of him knew they were… what? Their distance was a part of how they worked. But Isaak could not deny the pain in his heart whenever Victor took a new someone to his bed. At least, there had been pain for the first few years.

After Jackson… there was little pain. He found himself more indulgent of Victor’s every whim. He chalked it up to now spending all his energies and urges on the continued development of Jackson’s education as a submissive.

But perhaps it was more than that.

Perhaps he just didn’t care about Victor’s antics anymore.

Perhaps his newfound inner peace came from a blossoming love for his sweet lover.

Victor had commented upon his apathy. In a fit of fury he had informed Isaak that he was retrieving his things from their - Isaak’s, mansion in Kiev and moving permanently to Miami, saying that if Isaak wanted to see him, he would have to come to him. Isaak was not bothered by the prospect.

He should have been, he realised, but he wasn’t. That Victor was in this waking hour packing his belongings from their home of a decade, didn’t bother him the slightest.

If he loved Victor so, why did his mind drift to how much better Jax would fit in that space.

Isaak shook his head. No. He loved Victor. Fifteen years proved that.

#

  
When Jax woke, he was alone and he was not feeling very well. He was freezing and the usually soft sheets were scratchy and harsh. Having slept off his subspace, he could feel a drop coming. Slipping out of bed and standing on shaky feet he pulled on one of Isaak's shirts – it was the closest, and some pajama pants.

As he padded through the upper floor of the penthouse he felt a gnawing sensation in his gut. Isaak never left him alone after a scene. Jax had never felt steady enough to be left alone after a scene, and tonight was no exception.

Except Isaak had made an exception.

The scene they had gone through was new, and had pushed Jax further psychologically and physically than he'd ever done before, so was it too demanding that he needed his Dom now? He stopped and wrapped his arms around himself, feeling weak and unsteady.

He pushed the door open to where Isaak was speaking with Jurg and Georg in rapid Russian, far too fast for Jax to keep up with. Isaak paused as he noticed the door sliding open. “Not now Jackson,” and gestured for him to leave.

Jax frowned, hurt by the dismissive gesture, “I'm not feeling well,” he said quietly, leaning against the door frame,

Isaak huffed, irritated and came over to Jax and ushered him out the door. “Not now,” he repeated harshly. “Go back to bed.”

“But -”

Isaak whirled around to face him.

Jax didn't expect Isaak to lose his temper.

Isaak’s palm slammed into the desk with a resounding bang. Isaak was about to snarl in anger, but seeing Jax’s startled wide blue eyes made him reign himself in. “Go back to bed,” Isaak repeated, this time in a more quiet voice. “I will join you as soon as I… calm down.”

Blinking rapidly he glanced at Jurg who was trying to pretend not to pay keen attention, and Vanya who was looking awkwardly at the floor. Biting his lip, he nodded and padded quietly back to their room. Returning to the bedroom, the quietness of the room embracing him, an uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach.

He shook himself and tried to pull himself together. He was an ex-marine. He had been in shoot-outs, proper fights. Isaak raising his voice at him shouldn’t knock him off balance. But it did.

As his phone rang, he stretched across the bed and picked it up. “Hello?” he greeted.

“Jax, are you okay?” his moms voice cut through the receiver.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replied. “Why?”

“You just left…” she said.

Jax was struck by how sad she sounded, “I needed to get away for a bit mom.”

“Bobby said you were thinking of going nomad.”

“I need the distance mom.”

“Nomad is a death sentence for you, Jax. With our enemies… you can’t be serious.”

“Mom,” Jax sighed, “With everything lately, can’t you understand that Clay and I, we need to be apart. I know my legacy, but… I tried pulling the club in a safer, more legit direction, something that wouldn’t endanger our lives and families and…for Abel mom. His life has been tough enough as it is. I’m thinking long term here. I can’t in good conscience have him inherit a criminal enterprise that facilitates street war and violence. I want something… safer for him.”

“That ain’t gonna happen if you get run off the road by Mayans!”

“It’s nothing to talk about until I get back, mom. If you really don’t want me patching out, don’t you think you could at least give me this time of without having to deal with Clay’s bullshit and all the shit he has stirred up?”

Gemma huffed at the other end of the lines. “Fine,” she said. “Chibs is out of the hospital. Thought you might want to know. The IRA is in town.”

“O’Phalean?”

“Yeah. And Fiona.”

“His kid?”

“No. I don’t think so. Your porn stars got caught whoring. Clay wants to shut down Caracara.”

“He can’t do that without a majority vote. Boys love porn too much to let it go,” Jax scoffed.

“He ain’t easily deterred, Jax.”

“It’s my business, mom. Clay, despite calling himself a king, doesn’t rule an absolute monarchy.”

“You sound tired, honey,” Gemma fuzzed. “Is Abel ok?!

“I am tired, mom,” he looked up as a gentle knock sounded on the door frame. He clenched his jaw as he saw Vanyas white head peek through. “Abel is fine. He’s sleeping.”

“Can we talk?” Vanya asked quietly.

Jax nodded to her and spoke to his mother, “I gotta go.”

“That your lady? She sounds sweet,” Gemma fished.

“Goodbye mom,” Jax said pointedly and hung up. “What’s up, darlin’,” he asked.

“Isaak is trying to screw his head on right. I came to see if you needed something. He’s really sorry for snapping at you.”

Jax just rolled his eyes and tossed his phone aside. “I’m a big boy. I can take him raising his voice at me.”

Vanya smiled sadly, “But you shouldn’t have to, especially not after a scene, and he knows that.”

“So what happened? I don’t think I’ve ever seen him anything but mildly irritated at anything.”

“It’s complicated,” Vanya started. “Very complicated.”

Jax shrugged, “I’ve got nothing but time.”

“I don’t think Isaak will tell you himself, because… he is not good at speaking of his own emotions and his own failings… about the things that hurt him. Last night, his former partner, Victor, was murdered.”

Jax raised a brow, “Wow, okay. I see how that would be upsetting.”

“It’s not that simple, I’m afraid.” Vanya picked at her nails, “They were together for fifteen, sixteen years, give or take. A lot of history. Victor… loved the idea of Isaak, more than he ever really loved him. He loved the money, the power, the respect. And in the beginning, perhaps he loved Isaak. But not for many years. He had lovers, both for long times and prostitutes in droves.”

“Isaak didn’t strike me as the kind of guy to put up with that,” Jax said quietly.

“They were a power couple. Despite the pain it caused him, Isaak accepted it… And took lovers of his own,” she gave him a meaningful look.

Jax felt ice creep up his spine, “Oh…”

Vanya took his hand, “But then there was you. And you were special. The moment I saw how Isaak looked at you, I knew you were here to stay. Victor was furious when he learned of you. It infuriated him that Isaak would spend time with you, travel with you, bring you to openings and parties. It infuriated him even more to know the intimacy you shared. After sixteen years together, twelve of which they were not exclusive, eight of which they no longer lived together… Isaak was not bothered by Victor’s anger. In an attempt of forcing his hand, to make him leave you, Victor threatened to permanently move from Kiev to Miami.”

“And?”

“Isaak signed over the deed to their Miami penthouse and Victor was long overdue to pick up his things. But he never showed up.” Vanya paused for a second before she continued. “The reason Isaak was angry, was because Victor also worked for him. Just before he was killed, Victor killed one of the dancers in one of his Miami establishments… and a cop we can only assume caught him. It… creates a lot of problems, especially as Victor and Isaak still have many joint assets. Splitting after nearly two decades is as complicated as a divorce. Well… not anymore.”

Jax just stared at his reflection in the window, too stunned to even think clearly. “Why didn’t he tell me?” he whispered finally.

Vanya shrugged, “Because he has always been a man of principles. Right and wrong. They had an agreement. But then he fell in love with you. And he chose you. I believe he was conflicted between the truth his head had gotten accustomed to, and the truth in his heart. With what happened now… I think a part of his feels a bit guilty for making Victors last year so hard.”

“Why didn’t anyone else say anything?”

“Like Jurg and I, I can only assume they feared pointing it out might trigger Isaak to retreat from you. That… is not something anyone wanted. Victor always made him miserable, but you, you are the opposite.” Vanya pulled Jax to her, cradling his head to her chest. She could feel the shivers telling her Jax was crying, but trying to be quiet. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jax ran. 
> 
> He’d never run so fast in his life.

Chapter 15

When Jax woke, his nose was tucked into the side of Isaak’s chest. “Hey sweetheart,” Isaak crooned gently. Jax frowned and pushed away. Isaak let him, knowing they had a serious conversation ahead of them. “Vanya told me she spoke with you,” Isaak started. Jax nodded. “What do you want to know?” 

Jax wetted his lower lip, “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I suppose a part of me, despite how I feel for you, did not consider our arrangement a the sort of relationship where full disclosure was a part of the deal. I had Victor and you… were until recently married with a new son.” Isaak pondered, “You were always a welcome reprieve from the harsh realities of life.” He ran his fingers through Jax’ hair, “And while I, like you, wanted more, I could not see how your life in Charming could be unified with mine, so I did not press the issue. I would love nothing more than to take both you and Abel with me wherever I go, but you have a family and responsibilities.”

“What if I didn’t?” Jax whispered. 

“Hm?”

“Didn’t have responsibilities,” he said, “If I just packed Abel’s things and… came with you?” 

Isaak felt hope spark in his heart, “You would uproot your life -?”

“I’m tired of the fighting. I want Abel to have father, a peaceful life that doesn’t involve bullets flying around his head…” tears welled in his eyes, “I want to shear this ink off my skin and just be yours -” he whispered.

“Do you think you could live like this full time?” Isaak asked softly. “I know it brings you relief, but I had the impression that it was very much the contrast it posed to your daily life that made it a relief for you.” 

“Will we ever know if we don’t try?”

Isaak sighed. “I want nothing more. But before you make that decision, we need to talk about Victor, and we need to talk about the nature of some of my business ventures and partners.”

*

Jax felt a little paralysed. This whole ordeal with Isaak’s ex was one thing, but Isaak being the elected head of the Russian syndicate was… mind blowing didn’t cover it. 

“How would it work?” he asked quietly. “I can’t… I can’t bring Abel into more danger than he’s already in.” 

Isaak nodded. He was also deep in thought about how to make things work. “Much, most of my business is legitimate. On those ventures having you with me would be completely safe. There has never been any incidents. I, and all members of the council take great care to insulate ourselves from the more dangerous parts of our work; it is a seniority we have earned. It is lucrative, but also unstable…”

“When the wind blows, and the snow falls, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives…” Jax muttered the words of his father. 

“Precisely. All of our relationships are decades old and solid. On the rare occasion I have to deal with it directly, you will not join and you will be insulated. Of course there are social engagements, but how much you want to know and participate is entirely up to you.” 

“I’m not sure I can decide right now,” Jax said. “This is different.”

“I know. I feel like I disappointed you,” Isaak admitted. “Pretending to be someone more decent than I am…” 

 

Jax shook his head, not willing to go down that rabbit hole. “What do you do? Specifically.”

“Are you sure you want to know?” 

“I need to know. The club… we have rules. I can’t put Abel in a spot that makes the Sons look like saints.” 

“Then ask, and I will answer as honestly as I can.” 

“As you can?”

“Some things are classified to anyone outside the council. Exceptions are made but I am not the one who can decide if you are such an exception.” 

“Drugs?”

“Some of our subdivisions entertain narcotics, but Koshka does not.”

“Weapons?” 

“Yes.”

“On the street?”

“We supply war zones. Under the table military contracts. Our subdivisions have other relationships in place for the streets, but it is not something we get involved in.” 

“Prostitution?”

“No, but we traffic and the girls usually dance in addition to other services.” Jax raised a brow, “They spy. And strip. Girls and women are always underestimated, especially if they are beautiful. We all uphold our ends of the bargain and go our separate ways with the agreed upon compensation. Victor killed one of our girls… I could hardly believe he would create more problems dead than alive.” 

“Will you…”

“I have to follow up. He wasn’t just my partner -” Isaak cursed himself as he noticed the small twitch in Jax’s muscles; a flinch. “He worked for me. He represented Koshka. Someone killed one of ours. I cannot let it slide.”

“I get that.” 

“I’ll be heading down to Florida soon to deal with this. Then to Kiev to pack up his things and send them to his family.”

“When will you leave?” 

“Not until we’ve had our week. I think we also need this time together. I also think that while you might feel the need time to yourself right now… it might feel more isolating than helpful.”

“I’ve considered going Nomad,” Jax started, “A less combative transition out of the club. While you’re doing your- dealing with his stuff, I’ll decide.”

“Regardless of what you decide, you are always wanted here. Know I always want you here.” 

*

They didn’t do another scene the rest of the week as they were both out of sorts, but when Jax came back to the fucked up mess that was Charming, he wished they hadn’t been so sensible. 

Clay had launched an attack on Zobelle at a church gathering, landing them in jail for aggravated assault and illegal fire arms. Some pimp had killed LuAnn and Caracara had been burned to the ground. Chibs had been pressed by the ATF and apparently O’Phalean was making a stink. 

Whatever the seriously fuck. 

Jax sat at the table, completely stunned. 

“At least we got the ammo from the Wahewa,” Opie quipped. 

Jax just gave him a deadpanned glare. 

“Jax…” Clay addressed him, “Mom said you might have something to say?” She had said no such thing. She had pushed Clay to bond with Jax so that he wouldn’t leave, but Clay wasn’t interested in any bonding. 

“I’m considering going Nomad,” Jax said, “Perhaps even… eventually patching out.” 

The table exploded. 

Jax shouted to let him talk, “This is not about me and Clay. Not at all. It’s about Abel. I can’t go to jail. I can’t die. Not even for the club, no matter now much I love you all. In my selfish desire, I’d go out flaming with you, if that is what it came to. I’m a single dad to a kid with a bad heart. His mom… she can’t care for him. Gemma… to be realistic, with her ticker she wont live to see him to adulthood. The Club ain’t a place for a kid… it ain’t what it used to be. With everything that’s happened, what kind of father would I be if I purposefully led a life that would get my only child either orphaned or killed - with our enemies it is something we face every day. Chibs I know you love the club more than anything, but if you could have a do-over, don’t tell me you wouldn’t take KerriAnne as fucking far from O’Phalean as you could.” Chibs gave a resigned nod. 

“What about Tara?” 

“Seriously? I can’t put that on her. She ain’t his mom and she ain’t my old lady. She cares for Abel, but landing her with a kid she never wanted because I’m being a shit parent ain’t fair to neither of them.”

“This got something to do with your L.A. Lady?” Bobby asked. “She know you’re stepping down?”

“We talked about it, but that doesn’t change anything. Still lives in Kiev and is not moving to the US. It’s ain’t about that.”

“So when are you leaving?” Happy asked. 

“A few weeks, or until it settles down. Guys…” Jax said sadly, “I’m not sure about this. I don’t wanna go, I just don’t see another way. Going Nomad for a while… might help me get some perspective that I need to find the best solution, whatever that may look like.”

“So you might come back?” Juice asked, “After a while? So it’ll be like a leave of absence, like Ope had,” he looked to the crew, trying to be encouraging. 

Jax nodded. “Yeah. I guess it could be like that, but it’s gotta be on my timescale. I ain’t gonna be gone for a couple of months. I’m thirty and I’ve never lived more than half a mile from my mom,” he joked half-heartedly. That got a few laughs. As Jax saw he had won his brothers over to his point of view he added, “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to Abel because of me.” 

#

Jax ran. 

He’d never run so fast in his life. 

So fast, but as he fell to his knees at the harbour, it wasn’t fast enough. 

All he could see in his minds eyes was Abel pulling at his hair as he kissed him good-bye in the morning. The sound of the engine as Cameron Hayes sped away from them. It took a while before he realised he was screaming at the top of his lungs. 

His brothers where holding him down as he struggled, clawing at the damp wood of the wharf. He didn’t know why he was fighting, it wasn’t like he could run on water.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaak wasn’t exactly a high maintenance guy when it came to communication, but at this moment in time he was wondering whether he should be taking this personally, or if he should be getting worried.

Jax hadn’t answered his phone for over a week. Isaak wasn’t exactly a high maintenance guy when it came to communication, but at this moment in time he was wondering whether he should be taking this personally, or if he should be getting worried. He exhaled slowly, fingertips tapping his lips thoughtfully. He had put Jax in a very difficult position. That it hadn’t been purposeful didn’t matter. He understood knew he had put his lover though a betrayal of trust. While their situations were not dissimilar, Jax had been upfront about his situation. Isaak knew that Wendy was alright with Jax tumbling on the side, and that she had her own tumbles. All of that said, Jax was not conflict shy. He would retreat and think things over, but he was not the type of man to freeze people out while doing said thinking. 

Isaak decided that the appropriate response was to be worried. Once his mind agreed with his gut, he picked up the phone and called Jax once more. He’d never have to call more than once. Jax rarely picked up, as he left his phone at home because it was an expensive phone, and it would raise brows around the table. But he always called back, usually the same day, or the next morning. 

The most likely scenarios were the following. One, Isaak tapped off on his fingers, the club was on a run, but even then, Jax would let him know he would be out of touch. Two, he was injured, but if that was the case, Isaak knew that Jax’s friend Tara was a doctor at the hospital, and that she would inform him. Third, Jax was in prison, but he would have known if his kitten ended up in the pit. Fourth, something unforeseeable had happened.

This would be the fifth time he called. 

 

#

 

Gemma paused her cleaning as she heard a vibration. She frowned gently and focused her hearing to pinpoint it’s location. She’d come back from her father’s after Tig had copped to what Clay and Jax had tried to keep hidden form her. She was furious, but her anger was directed more towards herself. She had left Tara and Half-Sack to take care of her grandchild while she went after Zobelle’s daughter. She was still on the lam, but Jax’s house was as good as anywhere.

She opened a drawer, then another. A flashing screen glowed though a towel. She picked up a gleaming Samsung phone. The caller ID just read some Russian letters she couldn’t read, and the notification bar showed that there were several missed calls. Giving a slight pause, she slid her thumb across the screen to pick up the call. Someone spoke in Russian on the other end of the line. She didn’t speak a word of Russian, but the man had sounded both worried and scolding. “Who is this?” she asked. 

The man on the other end paused before he spoke in a surprisingly perfect English accent, “To whom am I speaking?” 

“I asked first,” Gemma said. 

“I know I did not dial the wrong number, ma’m, so if you could be so kind, why are you answering Jackson’s phone?” 

“I’m his mother. So I can answer his goddamned phone,” Gemma replied testily.

“Ah, Mrs. Morrow. Is Jax well?” 

“Why you asking?”

“It is unlike your son to not return my calls. I must admit I’m beginning to worry. Is everything well?” 

Gemma paused, “Jax is having a rough time. Abel…” she trailed off, not knowing what to say. 

“Is it his heart?”

“No, uh…” Gemma hesitated. This man obviously knew Jax well enough to know about his son, and Abel’s kidnapping was not a secret. “Abel was kidnapped. Disgruntled business partner. Jax is… passed out dead drunk and high.” The man on the other end was quiet. “So… you gonna answer my question?” 

“Pardon?”

“Who are you? Caller ID read something Russian.”

“Isaak, Isaak Sirko. I am… a friend of your son.” 

“You a friend that can knock him out of the coma he’s in?” 

After a brief pause, Isaak replied. “I’ll be there in three hours.” 

Gemma stood there with the phone in her hand after Isaak had hung up, wondering who she had invited to her sons house. He seemed to already know where Jax lived. She wondered if he had been there before. “Fuck,” she muttered under hear breath. 

 

#

“A friend of Jax’s is coming over,” Gemma said. 

Tig raised a brow, curious, “Who? His lady?” 

“A guy? Isaak. Russian. You know him?”

Tig shook his head, “Didn’t know Jax rolled with any Russians.”

When the doorbell rang Gemma knew it had to be the mystery caller because no one else rang the doorbell. Still, gestured for Tig to answer the door, just in case it was someone who could identify her. Tig got up and opened the door. “Who are you?”

“Isaak,” Gemma heard the now familiar voice, “I spoke with Gemma earlier.”

“It’s him,” Gemma called. “Guy has been driving for three hours. Let him in.”

“And the chick?” 

“I can wait in the car,” a womans voice floated through to Gemma. The voice ticked some note of familiarity in Gemma, but she couldn’t place it. 

“Just let them in,” Gemma said. The man stepped through the door, and she was pleasantly surprised that the man was tall, well built and handsome. The woman that followed was white haired in a way only Russians and Scandinavians were. She didn’t look like she’d ever seen sunlight. “Gemma,” she greeted. 

“Vanya,” she replied.

“Coffee? Must have been a long drive?” 

Vanya nodded, “Please.” 

“I’ll pass.” Isaak said. “Jax?” 

“Abel’s room,” Gemma replied, intentionally not telling him where it was, wanting to know if the man was a good enough friend to know his way around the house. Her suspicion was confirmed as he kicked off his shoes and turned right. Few people knew Jax hated people wearing shoes in his house. He hadn’t cared before, but with Abel crawling around the floor, he preferred it clean. Vanya sat at the table, but Tig and Gemma followed Isaak. 

Isaak’s heart broke a little, seeing Jax sprawled on his floor, a spilled bottle next to him, an ashtray full of stumps and buds, ashes spilled on the cream carpet. “Sunshine,” he muttered in Russian. To Gemma’s surprise, Jax stirred at the sound of his voice. Isaak knelt next to him and cradled his head in his hand, pulling him into a sitting position.

Gemma could see her sons bleary blue eyes opened to narrow slits. She expected him to close them again, and ignore the newcomer as he did everyone else, but instead he made an inhuman sound and curled into him, clinging to him. The sound was like something between a keen and a cry. She’d never heard him make anything like it. 

“C’mon,” Isaak muttered and picked Jax up. “Bozhe moi,” he swore, both because Jax reeked and he was much lighter than he was supposed to be. Jax was lax in his arms, cold nose to his neck, one arm curled to his chest, and the other clenching Isaak’s shirt. He pushed down the urge to kiss his cold nose and dry lips. Jax’s mother and the Sergeant at Arms moved out of his way as he moved Jax to his bedroom. Putting Jax down on the bed, Jax’s grip pulled him down. He relented easily and sat down, letting Jax curl up and lay his head in his lap. Isaak grimaced as he ran his hands through Jax’s greasy hair, fingertips rubbing at his scalp the way he knew he liked. He made sure to rub firmly from his hairline to the base of his neck, hitting all the spots that made up tension-headaches. Even as he was exhausted and in pain, Jax melted under his touch feeling some of stress melt away. 

After a while, Gemma came in with a cup of coffee and a glass of water with some aspirin. “If you can get those into him.” she spoke quietly, “He hasn’t drunk anything but Jack in days. Won’t eat anything I feed him.” 

“Cold pasta,” Isaak whispered back. 

Gemma nodded, “I’ll make some.” 

 

#

Gemma gave Vanya the full top-to-bottom check out. “So, you are?”

“I am Isaak’s executive assistant.”

“Assistant, right,” Gemma muttered and filled a pan with water. “You’re too beautiful for any man not to check you out.” 

“Which is why I have stayed with Isaak so long,” she said, “It is difficult for women to succeed in business without…” Vanya sneered and flipped her hair, “-the bullshit of men who think that because they have penises, they own the world.” 

Gemma chuckled, “I know that feeling. Am I to take from that, that your boss is an exception?”

“He is uncompromising. I’ve never had a boss who held all others to the same standard he hold himself. He has on occasion made examples of those that take liberties, be they ever so small. I know that the respect they treat me with if often out of respect for him, but… it’s a start, I guess.” 

“Some men never change. It takes other men putting them in their place, and keeping them in their place,” Gemma nodded. “I guess… I can see he’s had an effect on Jax. They been friends long?” 

“Couple of years,” Vanya sipped her coffee. “You can ask your questions. No need to make polite conversations.” 

Gemma chuckled. “I like you. Straight shooter you are.” 

Vanya smiled, “So I’ve been told. But truth be told, you can ask, but… my job includes confidentiality. There isn’t much I can tell you.”

“I can respect that. I’ll have to ask and see your reactions. They’re close? He seems to know how to handle Jax. Get through to him when no one else can.” 

“They have supported each other in hard times. They met just before Jax and Wendy separated. Isaak has had his own losses in the home arena.”

 

#

“Darling,” Isaak crooned. He’d managed to get the aspirin down his throat and the numbing effects were starting to take hold. “Drink the rest.” 

Jax scowled and protested, but did as he was told. He felt like shit. Even his hair hurt, but even so, it hurt less than before. Isaak’s warmth made the stiffness seep from his body, his hands working the tension from his neck. The slots slid into place in Jax’s mind and he sat up. Dizziness made his head swim, but a warm hand at the back of his neck steadied him. “You’re here,” he croaked. “When - you’re actually here.” Isaak pointedly held up the water. Jax took it and took a small sip. The water soothed his throat. 

“I’m here.” 

“How?”

“Your mother picked up when I called.”

“You called?” 

“Many times. I was worried.” 

“M’ sorry…” Jax whispered. 

“No.” Isaak kissed his shoulder, “You quite obviously had things on your plate.” 

“I always call you back…” Isaak smiled sadly, seeing that Jax was still very much out of it, even in he was vertical. “They don’t know,” Jax said, so tired. 

“I know. I didn’t tell them,” Isaak took the empty glass back and set it on the nightstand. Jax pushed weakly at Isaak making him take off his jacket. Then, with the little energy he had, laid down between his legs, head on his chest. “This might clue them in though,” Isaak commented wryly. 

Jax was too tired to care.


	4. Chapter 4

Gemma knocked gently and came in with a plate of chilled pasta. It wasn’t cold, but she’d run it under cold water. Isaak was half laying, half sitting on the bed, with a naked Jax sprawled on top of him. Her son was under the covers, but his clothes were on the floor. Isaak had taken his coat off, but seemed to still be dressed even though he was under the covers with Jax, and not as asleep as he’d seemed. “How’s it going?” she asked. 

“He’s asleep, rather than passed out. That’s something,” Isaak smiled crookedly. Jax made a soft noise of contentment as Isaak’s chest vibrated as he spoke. 

“Seems like he found his spot,” Gemma said, careful not to look at Isaak as she put the plate down. 

“Seems so,” Isaak replied, making Jax purr contently by rubbing his back. “I’ll get that in him and get him cleaned up. Thank you.” 

Gemma nodded and tip-toed out. When she closed the door, she let out a breath. 

“So, uh,” Tig tried to force down a grin, “Jax has been letting his freak flag fly?” 

“Shut up,” Gemma snapped, but there was not bite. “Ain’t the time Tig.”

“Clay called. Bobby’s ex-wife’s new man is a bounty hunter. He might be able to help, for a price.”

“Price being?” 

“Thirty grand.” 

“We don’t have that kind of cash,” Gemma sighed. “The guys come up with something?” 

“They’re working on something, but we gotta get Jax fit for fighting.”

“They won’t be long. He’s jamming cold pasta down his throat as we speak.”

“I’m sure that’s all he’s jamming down his throat,” Tig leered. Vanya rolled her eyes, but did not say anything. Gemma noticed that she did not say anything.

#

A few minutes later they heard doors open and close in the hallway and the shower start up. “You work wonders,” Gemma commented when Isaak put down the empty plate on the counter. “You’re like a Jax-whisperer.” 

Isaak offered a crooked smile, “So, Abel. Care to fill me in?”

“Not really. Ain’t your business. Club business.” 

“Right. The life of a child is at stake, and you hold your club over your grandsons welfare.” 

“You don’t know shit about me, or my club.” Gemma growled. 

Isaak poured himself a cup of coffee. “I don’t need to know shit to know that Jax does not have the kind of enemies that would kidnap his child.” 

“Jax is the VIP of the mother charter of SAMCRO. Any enemy of SAMCRO is an enemy of his,” Tig said. “But it’s club business man.”

“It was the Real IRA,” Jax said as he entered the kitchen, his voice raw. A towel was wrapped around his waist, and flushed from the heat of the shower, he was still pale and gray. “Cameron Hayes took Abel as retribution for… he thinks mom killed his son. It was the ATF, but…” 

“The RIRA liaison in Northern Cali is Jimmy O’Phalean,” Vanya said. Isaak gave a short nod. “I’ll shake some trees.” She got up and walked out with her phone. 

Gemma studied the gray haired man, “You a player?” she asked meaningfully. 

“I don’t play games,” he said and shifted to make space for Jax at this side. Jax hesitated for a moment, but tiredness won out. Isaak added two sugars to his coffee and nudged it towards him. The effect of the warm coffee was instant, and it soothed his nerves almost as much as the warm presence at his side. 

“You connected to the IRA?” Jax asked. He would have called if he knew that. 

“No.” Jax had a questioning look on his face. “I can make a convincing argument to a friend. If nothing else, it might get us some information.” Jax nodded, accepting whatever help he could get. Isaak didn’t want to say that he could shut down every pipeline that supplied the Irish, because he couldn’t do that on his own. He would need the support and active participation of every member of the council, and their chain of command. It was a stretch, and he wouldn’t make promises he wasn’t sure he could keep. 

“You think that will do shit?” Tig asked. 

“It will do more than nothing.” He accepted the fresh cup Gemma handed him. “What do you know about Abel’s whereabouts. Any leads?” 

“We got a bounty hunter willing to follow the trail.” 

“Fee?” 

“30k.”

“Got it covered?” 

“Clay is sorting it out,” Tig said. 

“Let me know if it doesn’t work out.”

Tig paused at the offer, but nodded. “We think Abel is in Belfast, but O’Phalean says he’s gone to Vancouver. We can’t leave the country, so, bounty hunter.”

“Isaak,” Vanya called for his attention. “Chekov wants to speak with you.” Her gaze flickered to Jax. “It’s about… one of your Southern establishments,” she chose her words carefully, not wanting to mention Victors name, nor the city Jax knew Victor had lived in. This was not the time to reminding Jax of that pain. The man had enough pain. He did not need to be reminded of this. Isaak was his for the keeping. There was no purpose in even by accident remind him of that it hadn’t always been the case. 

Isaak excused himself from the table and took the conversation outside. “You got anything?” Vanya gave a brief nod. “Chekov, how can I help you?”

“You are not at the council meeting, Isaak. We are discussing the action that should be taken in regards to Victor. You are on speaker.” 

Isaak sighed heavily. “I apologise for my absence, friends. In regards to Victor, I recommend no action to be taken. He is dead, and he caused his own death. He killed one of our high value assets, and killed a high ranking police detective. He met a swift end due to these events. His killer was a highly trained professional. After careful consideration I decided this individual could be a greater asset to Koshka, and prove beneficial our organisation in the long run. Any retribution would only cause further damage to our business ventures.” 

“To be clear, Sirko. You are giving up your right to personal retribution for your loss, and you recommend that Koshka does not pursue this avenue on your behalf, nor on the behalf of the Brotherhood.” 

“That is correct.” The silence from his council was deafening. 

Chekov spoke again, “I think I speak for the council when I say, should you change your mind, you will have full support of the Brotherhood.”

“Thank you,” Isaak said, truly grateful for the support. “However, I have another matter in which I will need your support, and it is urgent. A member of the Real IRA has kidnapped my Jacksons infant son, and taken him from California, and presumably to Vancouver or Belfast. The boy was born with a heart-condition, and needs his medication. They deny any involvement, but Cameron Hayes killed a member of the Sons of Anarchy when he stole the boy, and injured the boy’s surgeon.” 

“Jackson’s boy? Your stepson?” 

Isaak paused. Stepson? Stepson. Well shit. Of course, Abel was his stepson. “Yes.” His voice was not as steady as he’d have liked.

“Would you consider an economic incentive? We could shut down their main supply to encourage the boys safe return,” a council member suggested. 

Chekov made a sound of approval, “It would give them an opportunity to return the child without further damage to relations. Should they fail, should more extreme actions be taken?” 

The thought of Abel not being returned to the safe arms of his father made an unexpected rage boil in Isaak’s stomach. “Should Abel be lost, I will tear their entire organisation apart,” he said, his voice slow and measured. 

“And as promised, you will have our support. We will contact you when it’s done, and prepare the other pipelines to be rerouted on your command.”

Isaak glanced up as motorcycles roared into the driveway. “It wont be forgotten.”

Jax’s crew walked past him, the guy he assumed to be Clay gave him a look, but none of them addressed him as they entered the house. 

#

“Whose the suit on the lawn?” Clay asked. “Fed?”

“Friend of Jax’s” Tig said. “Unbelievable guy.”

“Good unbelievable, or bad unbelievable?” Chibs asked. 

“Good.” Tig said resolutely. “Jax is up, showered, fed, caffeinated and getting dressed. Still pale as a ghost, but he’s conscious and somewhat communicative.”

“Courtesy of his friend?” 

“Think he’s more than a friend,” Tig waggled his brows and grinned. 

“Shut up,” Clay huffed. 

“This ain’t a joking face, man,” Tig gestured to his face. “It’s glee. Jax has been letting his freak flag fly, I’m telling you.” 

“You hearing this, mom?” Clay asked Gemma as she came in. 

“Ain’t the time, Clay.” She said and pushed some stuff into the washer. “Isaak is helping.”

Gemma brushing it off like that told Clay that there was something to know, and that Tig might be right. “Helping how? Do we know this guy?” 

“Jax trusts him, that’s all we need right now. And he’s got resources, Clay. He’s out there putting them to use finding Abel. Nothing else matters now,” she said sternly. 

The crew just looked at each other, not knowing what to do with what Tig just told them, not knowing if he was just fucking with them, or if it was real.

Jax came in from the bedroom. Clay noted that his stepson looked better than he had in a while, but still gaunt and pale. “Isaak still outside?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” Gemma said. “Still on the phone.” 

Jax nodded and padded on into his driveway on socked feet. Isaak ended the conversation as he stepped towards him. Jax didn’t really give him a moment to react and just wrapped his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Isaak wrapped his arms around his waist and hugged him back. “Thank you,” Jax whispered. “Thank you for being here.” 

“I will never be anywhere else when you need me,” Isaak replied, squeezing firmly, feeling how muscle had wasted away since he’d held him last. Jax pulled away a little, looking up to study Isaak’s face. He felt indecisive, desperate, intense longing. Isaak’s eyes flickered to the kitchen window where people were inside. “Jax,” Isaak said, “this is not something that must be dealt with now.” 

Jax nudged Isaak, pulling his eyes back to him. Then he kissed him. “I need you.” 

“You’re making a rash decision, Jackson,” Isaak mumbled. 

“Loving you wasn’t rash,” Jax whispered. 

“Telling your family that, like this, now… that is rash.” 

“I think… I don’t have the reserve to to keep my shit together without you now. They’re just gonna have to d-deal,” his voice cracked. Isaak tucked Jax’s head against his shoulder, a smile pulling at his lips at feeling teeth lightly biting his flesh, just latching on. 

“Anything you need, sunshine,” he said. 

“How did I get so lucky to find you?” Jax whispered. 

“If I remember correctly, you were on a ride to escape your wife for a night,” Isaak joked. 

#

“Clay,” Chibs called his President’s attention. “I think Tig was on to something,” he nodded out the window. Clay glanced out just in time to see Jax stretch up and kiss the older man. “Our boy is just full of surprises, eh?” Chibs turned to study Clay, who had a grim expression on his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gemma gets the Origin Story. Despite missing her grandson, she can't help Isaak making her laugh. Others are not so amused.

“Jax has a lot on his plate right now, Clay,” Chibs said, but he was ultimately ignored as Clay gestured for Tig to follow him. They went into Abel’s room for privacy.

“This Isaak… you said he and Jax -” he gestured. 

Tig nodded, “Oh yeah. That was obvious.” 

“They’re fucking.”

“My social antenna ain’t the best, Clay, but I’m fairly sure Jax is firmly attached to that dude - all of him, not just his dick.” Tig shrugged. “Jax was unconscious and unresponsive, but the second Isaak was there, Jax latched on to him, like… like he was acting on pure instinct man.”

“And he offered to help?”

“He came up as soon as Gemma told him what happened.”

“You trust him?” 

“Jax does,” Tig shrugged. 

“What does your gut say?”

Tig sobered, “My gut says the dude is dangerous. Strong. Smart. He’s been nothing but cordial, but that’s a guy who is used to getting his way.” 

“You telling me he needs to go?”

Tig smirked. “To break it down for you Clay,” he said, feeling his best friend was being dense on purpose, “I’m telling you the guy obviously considers Jax his territory. He’s all but pissing on him. I’m saying that Isaak is a Russian bear, Jax is his cub and you might get your head bitten off if you poke him. Jax might just need his Russian teddy-bear to baby him for a bit considering their cub got cubnapped and all. I’m saying it can wait until Abel is safe at home.” 

Clay glared at his Sergeant for talking to him like he was a child, “I think I got it.”

Returning to the rest of the crew, Isaak and Jax entered at the same time. Clay and Jax held eye-contact for a moment before Clay refocused to the older man behind him, finding a pair of eyes even paler than his own. “You must be the prodigal son-in-law,” he said and reached out a hand to greet. “Clay Morrow.”

A look of surprise flashed across Jax’s face, but it was soon replaced by a small smile as Isaak gripped Clay’s hands firmly. “Isaak Sirko.” 

“It was good of you to come down. Jax…” he looked at his son, “He really needs you now.”

“Thanks Clay,” Jax said quietly. 

“Don’t sweat it kid,” he said. When Isaak disappeared to the kitchen for a moment, Clay spoke again. “Look, I gotta be honest. Any other time… but this thing with Abel, it puts things in perspective about what’s important. Tig told me he took care of you, that he can handle shit, That’s all I gotta know right now, son.” 

 

#

Jax and Isaak were curled together in bed. The crew were off doing the thing with Lin to get money for the bounty hunter. Since someone had to stay with Gemma, Jax stayed behind. Isaak’s breath warmed his neck, and he could feel his half-hard boner pressing against the small of his back as they napped. His back was covered, his club knew, now, all he needed was his baby at his chest. Abel’s absence felt like a gaping wound in his chest, and somehow, while Isaak made it all better, it also made it hurt more. It was almost like it was better when nothing was alright. 

A strong arm tightened around him. 

No, that wasn’t true. 

 

#

 

The early morning hours wasn’t very restful for Gemma. In her years as a mother to a skirt-chasing boy like Jax, she had walked in on him getting his rocks off enough times to stop being embarrassed about it. Trying to sleep in the next room wasn’t easy when the soft rocking of the bed next door occasionally bumped against the wall. Her sons strangled whimpers and cries, mixed with another mans heavy breathing was… strange. Awkward. Gemma sighed and decided she might as well just get up. 

#

Isaak chuckled and nipped at Jax’s shoulder. “Will I have to face your mother on my own, love?” 

Jax smirked lazily, “I think I deserve a coffee in bed for taking that monster dick of yours with only baby oil.” 

“You think flattery will get you anywhere?” Isaak growled playfully. 

“Ain’t flattery and you know it,” Jax huffed. Baby oil. Jax’s heart grew heavy. “You think we’ll be able to find him?”

Isaak nodded, “If Abel is with the RIRA, it will be very unprofitable for them to hold on to him.” 

“What do you mean?” Jax sat up. 

Isaak frowned, “Calling in some favours to block their business. Vanya is handling it.”

“You can do that?” Jax asked, a little winded. 

“I’m trying. There are many moving parts. I can’t promise it will work, or hold long, but it will make their lives difficult for a while.”

“That’s a lot of favours.” 

“Abel is worth every single one it takes.” 

Jax nodded. “Will it…” he stopped. It wasn’t his business to ask. 

“What?” 

“Ain’t my business,” he said quietly. 

“All of my business is your business,” Isaak said.

Jax frowned, “Will it affect you being able to get the guy who killed Victor?” 

“Ah,” Isaak sat up.

“I know you didn’t have the easiest relationship, but you were… family.” 

“Jax, the situation with Victor was very complicated. He made a right mess of things. He killed one of our valued assets, and then he killed a detective. He caught the attention of… a local professional who took Victor mindless violence in his territory as a personal offense. Professionally, I made the recommendation that Koshka should take the new relationship and forgo retribution. Personally… I don’t feel the need. Our relationship was over. Fair to say, on very bad terms.” Gently he moved Jax’s hair out of his eyes. “At the end of that conversation, the council made their intention clear to do everything they could to have Abel returned to you. They consider you my family, Jax.”

“I’ve never even met any of them…”

“You’ve met a couple,” Isaak smiled. “In non-work settings. You made quite the impression.” 

Jax huffed, “I sometimes get the impression that their impression of me is very different from who I am.”

“And who are you, Jackson?”

“Outlaw. Crap father. And currently hung over.” 

“And when you’re not under the stresses of outlaw life, you’re mellow, sweet, kind, a kitten that enjoys life and sunshine.” 

“Oh man,” Jax giggled, “-you’re in for a real surprise when those pink shades drop off your eyes.”

Isaak just smiled, “I want to give you a life when you can be that sweet kitten stretching in the sun whenever you want. And you can be that tough outlaw when it suits you.” 

“Sounds like a dream.” 

“You could live a dream.” 

“I think… that when we get Abel back, I need to get him away form this life,” Jax said softly. “This… this only proves that I should have gone the moment he was born.” Isaak just nodded. It wasn’t his decision to make. “If… if you ever change your mind about retribution for Victor. I’ll understand. Even if you ended on bad terms, it’s was still a loss.” Jax bit his lip. “You can tell me when you’re sad about it, Isaak.” 

“Thank you, love. And you can ask, any time. Now, how about that coffee, uh?” 

Isaak snatched his shirt from the chair. He made a face as he sniffed it. Jax laughed from the bed, “You can use some of mine. No one will judge you for not being GQ ready in this household.” Isaak glared, but took a white t-shirt from the closet. “You can take some pants as well…” Isaak pointedly pulled on his suit-trousers, making Jax chuckle. 

“You stay put, child,” Isaak growled in Russian, a smile playing at his lips. 

#

“Good morning, stud,” Gemma greeted him with a smirk. 

“Mrs. Morrow,” Isaak greeted her in return. 

“Made coffee. Figured you got less sleep than I did,” she teased. 

“It was not my intention to keep you awake.” 

“Jax is not quiet.” 

“I’ll gag him next time. Usually works,” Isaak commented lightly and poured two cups. 

“You’re a bit of a dark horse, hm? All proper and mannered, but you’re quite the naughty boy, aren’t you?”

Isaak just smirked, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Right,” Gemma shook her head. “Get Jax out of bed? Breakfast is ready soon.” 

“Yes ma’m.” Isaak was about to head back to the bedroom, but Jax came to the kitchen. 

“Ope called. They’re on their way over,” he said and accepted the cup from Isaak. His muscles hadn’t cooled enough for the stiffness to set in, but he was deliciously tired and sore. His legs quivered a little as he sat down. He wasn’t really hungry, but accepted the toast of newly baked bread from his mother anyhow. 

“Proper breakfast coming in a minute, honey.” 

“I’ll grab a shower then-”

Jax was about to get up and leave the table when Isaak snapped at him in Russian. “Finish your breakfast or you’ll be getting a spanking.” Jax glared at him, but sat back down. Isaak had said he’d lost quite a bit of weight, and he was not happy about it. His mother raised a brow, curious at the exchange. Isaak caught her curious look. “Soon the wind can knock him over.” 

Gemma smiled, “A man after my own heart,” she nodded. “Keeping my boy well fucked and well fed.” 

“Mom!” Jax groaned. 

“The walls are thin Jax. And you ain’t that quiet.”

Isaak just chuckled, “I believe your mother is exercising her right to embarrass her offspring- and taking advantage on that she has some to catch up on.”

“And exactly how much time do I have to catch up on?” She asked and lit a cigarette, “Since Abel was born, I’m guessing? You weren’t exactly hiding you were seeing someone.” 

“We met the day before you told me Wendy was pregnant.”

“And?” 

“Smooth talker over here charmed his way into my pants over a drink. Kinda did it backwards though. Did the wine and dine thing after,” Jax smiled. “Got lucky.”

Isaak hummed, “No luck, sunshine.” 

“What do you mean?” 

He smirked, “I was in the cafe across the street. Saw you walk into the bar.” 

Jax gaped at him, “No way. You dirty old man,” he laughed. “You were just hunting for fresh meant!” 

Isaak’s smirk widened, but he just sipped his coffee quietly, feigning innocence. “You fox,” Gemma chuckled. “Any news on Abel?”

“Vanya is on her way over. She’ll have an update.”

They could hear bikes coming down the street and a minute later the crew came through the door. “Anything new?” Jax asked. 

“Jimmy’s still sprouting the same bullshit,” Ope said and dropped down in the chair. “What’s going on here?”

“Getting the origin story,” Gemma said and put on a new pot of coffee. “Apparently Jax was a bit more of the innocent lamb to the big bad wolf than he thought.” 

Ope snorted. “I can believe that.” He turned to Isaak, “Think we passed your car down the road. Can I talk to you for a minute Jax?” 

Jax gave Isaak a brief glance. He still hadn’t finished his food. While there was a pleasant expression on their face, there was a steely glint in his eye that promised he would make good on his promise. Jax took his plate with him. 

“What was that about?” Ope asked, having caught the wordless exchange. 

Jax huffed, “Isaak gets… a little cross with me when I don’t eat for days,” he said and pointedly took a bite. 

 

“He always baby you like this?” 

“Yup.” 

“You weren’t kidding when you said your new lady was something else.”

“Yeah…”

“Jax, we were in diapers together. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Jax sighed, “I didn’t want to make you chose.” 

“Ain’t a choice, Jax. What changed now? Abel?” 

“Yeah. But I’m also stepping down, Ope. Abel is my number one, and he needs a better life than what SAMCRO can give him.”

“Better than what we had?” 

“This life isn’t the same as it used to be Ope, you know that. We could run in the streets, ride, play without fear. Even at it’s worst during the Mayan War, they never, not once, aimed their rage at anyone not wearing a patch. Even as prospects we were off limits because we weren’t full members. Abel is just a baby, barely a year old…”

“And Isaak is your ticket out of this life, uh?” 

Jax gave humorless laugh, “Isaak ain’t a meal ticket, Ope.” 

“Nah, he’s the love of your live, right?” 

Ope’s tone made a cold stone settle in Jax’s stomach. Suddenly he had trouble chewing the bite he’d just taken of his toast and he seemed both trapped in his own head and hyper-aware of Isaak’s parking outside his driveway. 

“You’re just gonna climb into his ivory tower and hide away from the real world?” 

Ope’s words cut deeper than Jax had thought they would. He’s prepared for his. Talked to the mirror, rehearsed his comebacks for years. He’s played this scenario again and again, on repeat in in his head. He’s imagined his mother repeat his grandmother ramblings. He’d imagined Clay saying he wasn’t worthy of his kutte, that he was ashamed to have raised him. He’d imagined Piney saying his father would have wished he’s died instead of Thomas. He’s imagines Chibs suck in his lips, expression pinched in quiet disapproval. The only one who had done as he’d expected was Tig, who mocked him, but in a brotherly spirit, the way he mocked himself. But for some reason he had never imagined any of the words he’s prepared for to come from Ope. 

“How you gonna look your kid in the eye and tell him you walked away from your family to be paid for whore playing housewife to your sugar daddy.”

Jax swallowed. The toast scraped his pipe as it went down. “If it means I get to look my kid in the eye again, I’ll happily play housewife for my sugar daddy for the rest of my fucking life.” Jax looked up at Ope, “A guy whose single most important thing in the world is you and your kid, and who is capable of showing that in everything he does… ain’t a lot of things that are better than that Ope.” He took a deep breath, “Don’t take it out on me, because you took the other path. And the paid-for-whore-thing, say that to Lyla’s face, a single mom on a single income, taking care of your kids and licking pussy for a living.” 

He didn’t stick around to see the look on Ope’s face, and escaped back to Isaak’s enveloping and warm presence.


	6. Chapter 6

Ope stayed outside until the rest of the crew showed up. 

Jax and Isaak showered. He’d told him what Ope had said, and Isaak had told him to take the pain and rise above it. Some men never grew into the kind of manhood where they could handle their business, and relied on their wives or partners to pull the weight alone. The kind of guys who thought that putting some money on the table made up for their absence, poor behaviour and shit parenting. Jax hadn’t liked to hear it, but Ope was the kind of weak willed person that was unable to put the needs of his offspring above his own, who would never be able to be that man that put steel to steel and put shit right. He would always be chasing and doing damage control, and never get ahead. He’d roll with the punches, but he’s never have the strength to throw any of his own. 

It had pissed Jax off to hear Isaak speak that way about his best friend, but he knew that Isaak was right. He wasn’t someone who spoke harshly about people easily. Even with everything Victor had done, Isaak never said a bad word about him, other than explaining why their relationship fell apart. And Isaak didn’t love Ope. Right now, Ope was in his negative ratings. But it also meant that Isaak was not blinded by love the way Jax was, and he was not the type to get blinded by hate. And when Isaak was pissed, he became brutally honest. It was a dangerous thing, because he didn’t miss a lot and Jax knew that whatever he said when he was angry, he also meant when he was happy. The only difference was that when he was happy, he would keep it to himself unless the constructive criticism would serve a purpose. 

When he’d told him about how Ope head dealt with Donna’s death, Isaak had said nothing. He had passed no judgment, but the glacial look in his eyes told Jax that he was unimpressed. When Jax had told him he didn’t think Abel would live, Isaak hadn’t ripped him a new one like his mother had, but his silence had spoken volumes. And when Jax had returned to his sons side, Isaak’s silence had spoken volumes - in a different way. 

So when Isaak let it rip now, it pissed Jax off, but he knew every word he spoke was unfiltered truth. 

And Jax had to admit, Isaak only said the very same thing he had told Ope himself. 

“Hey!” Jax exclaimed as Isaak dumped a towel on his head. “Oooph-” Isaak gave his head a good rub. When he pulled the towel of, Jax glared at him, with his hair standing up in every direction. Isaak chuckled. “I’m cutting my hair,” Jax threatened, and that wiped the smirk right off his face. 

“I’ll behave,” Isaak grumbled and leaned down to steal a kiss. He huffed when Jax bit his lip. “Don’t think we have time for that love.” 

Jax chuckled, “Doesn’t take much to get you going, uh? Old age isn’t getting to you at all.”

“You better hope it stays that way,” Isaak kissed his nose. “Age is a though contender, and in the end, she gets us all.” 

“If the road doesn’t get you first.” Jax rubbed his cheek again Isaak’s chest, loving how his chest hair felt against this face. 

“Or angry Irishmen,” Isaak said. “Vanya said she has news.” 

“Yeah,” Jax pulled a shirt on and Isaak momentarily mourned the missing view. “I’ve been sitting in my own shit long enough.” 

“Jackson, you realise there is nothing you could have done any earlier, you understand?” 

“I hear you saying it, Isaak, but it doesn’t feel that way. Now that my head is clearer, I keep thinking if I’d just been a little faster.”

“And if you mother hadn’t followed that girl, if the prospect had been a little faster, if Tara had take the boy and ran-”

“Oh come on, that’s not fair -”

“No, it’s not. You don’t blame them, so don’t blame yourself. Guilt makes you lose your focus, love. This is the time to channel your rage and rain down the pain upon the people who took him, and all the people who have any part in keeping him from you.” 

Jax blinked, “Vengeance is a real hot look on you.” 

“I find revenge is a dish best served right out of the oven.” 

#

“We’re three grand short,” Clay said. “But Peach’s man said that due to circumstance, he can take it on backpayment -”

“That might not be necessary,” Vanya interrupted as she came in and handed Isaak a file, “Cameron Hayes was spotted in Belfast,” she said. “According to our source, he did not have a child with him at the time, but someone said he had been spotted disembarking the ship with an approximate baby-sized bundle.”

Isaak flipped it open and handed it to Jax. 

“They didn’t get him.”

“We got word to Belfast only very shortly before he arrived,” Vanya said. “He was armed, they made the call to keep their distance, in case he would do something to the child. He made his way to a Maureen Ashby, who took him in. Wife to SAMBEL President.” 

“You’re shitting me…?” Clay growled. 

Jax numbly handed over the file to his stepfather, showing him the pictures. 

“Anything else?” 

Vanya continued her update. “They shut down all transactions, no questions asked.” 

“And the rest?” Isaak asked, with a worried frown on his face.

“They are preparing and awaiting word.” 

“Care to fill the rest of us in?” Clay asked. 

“The IRA is mainly supplied by the Kremlin. He is a friend,” Isaak said.

“It will take them months to set up a new supplier” Chibs said gleefully.

“You put this together overnight?” Clay asked. “Why didn’t you say something?” 

“Even if favours are owed, what you ask in return might not be achievable.” Isaak told Clay. He turned to Jax, “I didn’t want to get your hopes up, love. If it didn’t work out.” Jax pressed his socked foot on top of Isaak’s in a quiet show of gratitude. 

“So we need to get to Belfast,” Happy said. 

“I’ll arrange transport,” Vanya tapped a note on her phone. “Is there an airstrip in Charming?” 

“Yeah, private. Oswald.” 

“Perfect. Pack your things boys, wheels up in four hours.” 

#

“Isaak,” Vanya stopped him in the doorway, speaking quietly in Russian. “I didn’t add this to the briefing because I didn’t know if it was something you wanted Jax to know.”

“Yes?”

“Maureen Ashby’s brother is a catholic priest. He is connected to a nunnery that runs illegal catholic adoption. Our window to get Abel might be very small.”

Isaak’s heart skipped a beat, “Make the arrangements. Pay whatever necessary to speed things up.”

“Right away,” she said and disappeared out the door.

“That assistant of yours is a real taskmaster,” Tig chirped. “A lady after my own heart.”

“She keeps my life in order.”

“Work wife.” 

“Work wife, indeed.”

“Never felt the need to tap that?” Isaak just gave him a look that clearly stated he thought Tig was an idiot and a prick. “What? A guy can dream.”

“Clay,” Isaak called for the older mans attention. “A word,” he said and walked out to the front lawn.

“Everything alright?” Clay asked. “Good work on the intel. Didn’t realise you were connected.” Clay raised a brow at the dark look Isaak had on his face. 

“There is more,” Isaak said. “But first we must address an in-house problem.”

“Oh?” Clay was surprised. He honestly thought they all had their hands too full to create any in-house shitstorms.” 

“As you demonstrated yesterday, we both agree that this is not the time to address Jax’s reasons for keeping our relationship to himself.” 

“Agreed,” Clay replied resolutely. 

“We started off our morning with Opie calling him a coward, asking how he was gonna look his son in the eye when he was nothing but a paid for whore playing housewife to his sugar daddy-”

Clay’s heart sank. “Shit.” 

“And I don’t think I need to say that Jackson has enough on his mind.” Clay nodded, agreeing. “So let’s divide our tasks, between partner and father. I’ll take care of Jackson, and you, should any of your men carry a similar need to express their feelings, you shut it down before it touches Jax,” Isaak said, his voice low, but sweet. 

Clay frowned. Being the smart man he was, he knew when he was being threatened. “You threatening me?” 

Isaak smiled warmly. “Understand my rage, Clay. Jax is the single most important thing in my life. Should anyone further inconvenience him with their petty grievances at this very difficult time, they will learn exactly how I make friends.”

“You didn’t call in a favour did you.” It wasn’t really a question, so Isaak didn’t reply, and Clay took that as enough of an answer. “Your concern is noted,” Clay said. “Look, Isaak. I get why you’re pissed. I’ll talk to Ope. Make sure anyone else keeps their shit to themselves- at least until Abel is home and Jax shakes off the stresses of the past few weeks. You try not to cut off any heads and take care of Jax… however you take care of Jax.” 

Satisfied with the answer from Jax’s Step-father, he got to what was their primary concern. “Maureen Ashby’s brother, a priest, is connected to a nunnery that provides illegal catholic adoption.” 

Clay paled at Isaak’s words, “Kellan Ashby. Peacemaker.”

“I have not told Jax, but we may have much less time than anticipated. There is no time for politics or pleasantries. I understand you have a charter in Belfast, and your business with the IRA is at the heart of SAMCRO. This is my courtesy notice that we cannot stand for delays.”

Isaak gave a nod and headed back inside. 

#

Clay was furious. He was beyond furious, and it pissed him off even more that he couldn’t show it.

Isaak threatening him lit a deep primal rage in him, and it pissed him off that he knew the guy could follow through, and that his reasons were legit. They were so legit, Clay would have done the exact same ting, and had he heard Ope saying that shit, his club might just have been another member short. Calling Jax a paid for whore. No shame to working girls, but an insult was an insult. While the other man had not said it in any words, Clay knew the look of a killer when he saw one. He would bet his right nut that more than a few people had bled to satisfy the anger in that mans eyes. That was a man that would kill for Jax. That both comforted and worried him. Isaak held no loyalty to the Sons, and as today had shown, he was capable of directing his hatred in more than one direction at the time. Clay had a feeling that this division of tasks, as Isaak had called it, was not a courtesy that would not be offered twice. He’d have to have Juice check into this guy, to find out who he really was. 

But now, now the situation was that he had a patch looking to cause trouble, a son who came out as a fairy, a missing grandson and a possible gangster son-in-law in a killer-mood due to said patch causing trouble. 

He missed the old days when all he had to worry about was Teller Sr and the Mayans. 

#

“Ope,” Clay caught him as he was heading out.

“’Sup Pres?”

Clay put a hand on the handlebar and shook his head, “Do I actually need to tell you that this ain’t the time for you to air your concerns about Jax’s and Isaak’s business?” 

A dark look passed Ope’s face. “Jax told you.”

“Jax hasn’t said a word. But Isaak is pissed. I guess your voice carries,” he said sardonically. 

“Why didn’t Isaak say this shit to my face?”

“Because he’s got his eyes on the endgame, Ope. Abel.” Clay sighed. “Shit you said, that ain’t fair. You ain’t the only one that’s pissed, but now ain’t the time. Whatever you’re thinking, it ain’t Abel’s fault. Isaak is trying not to start fires, and keep Jax focused. If you stir up shit again, he ain’t gonna take kindly to it.”

“And exactly what is that fairy city-slicker gonna do, uh? Scowl at me and criticize my fashion sense?”

Clay closed his eyes, realising that Ope was just in an antagonistic mood, and that nothing he said would reach through to him. “Ope, just be a fucking man and get your shit together. Abel is the only thing that matters now.”

 

#


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m coming,” Gemma said, a stubborn tilt to her head. 

“Mom, you’re a wanted fugitive,” Jax said. 

“It’s my grandson, Jax! I’m not sitting on my ass here while he’s getting further away every minute.”

“If your mother is anything like you, she’s not going to let up until she has her way,” Isaak sing-songed. 

Jax glared at him, “Thanks for the support, man.” 

“I’ve learned to pick my battles. Forgo the battle, you might win the war, my dear.”

“Smart man,” Gemma smirked. “Knows mama knows best.” 

Jax just scowled, “He’s just sucking up.”

“It’s working.” 

 

#

“You have no idea what can of worms you just opened,” Jax huffed as he stuffed some clothes into an old overnight bag. 

Isaak chuckled, lounging on the bed. “Like I said, kitten, I’m too old to fight losing battles.” 

Jax snorted, “You telling me you’re too old to stand up to my mom.” 

“I’d rather spend my energy on you, than arguing with your mother.”

Jax gave him a rueful look, “Good answer.” Isaak gave him a shit-eating grin. “Y’know,” Jax laughed, “You got everyone fooled. Bad ass gangster, classy slick business man. You’re just a brat who like to stir up shit and step back and see where it lands.”

Isaak’s grin widened, the sparkle in his eyes teasing and challenging Jax. Jax didn’t rise to the bait, but felt a little cautious happiness bubble in his stomach. He noticed Isaak’s eyes settle lower down. He looked down to see his bare wrists holding on to his bag. “You don’t think me walking around with a Harley’s worth of shiny is gonna garner some attention.” 

“It’s not a Harley’s worth,” Isaak protested. 

“Oh shove it, Vanya copped to it,” Jax chided, a smile playing at his lips. “Don’t you have better things to spend your money on?”

“Nope,” Isaak gave an impish grin. “I take great pride in having you dripping in metals as precious as you are.” 

“Oh my god,” Jax groaned, “King of cheese.”

“You love it.” 

Jax smiled warmly and climbed over him, “I do,” he whispered, and kissed him. 

Isaak paused, and smiled softly, “I’d like to hear you say that in a different setting one day, sunshine.” 

Jax pulled back in surprise. “Are you serious?” He sat up, straddling Isaak. “You talking hypothetical or are you actually asking?” 

“Um,” Isaak sat up with Jax, hands sliding under his sweaters, holding his waist, “I…” 

“Fuck, I’m sorry-” Jax said and made to move, but Isaak pulled him back down.

“Jax.” Jax didn’t think he’d ever seen Isaak so insecure. “I…. I didn’t,” Isaak exhaled sharply, blood pounding in his head, heart thumping in his chest. 

“It’s alright man, I didn’t mean to make this awkward-” Shit that knot in his stomach hurt real bad now. 

“I’m asking-” Isaak cut him off, voice raw and lips tight. Eyes searching Jax’s surprised face for any reaction. “I d-didn’t imagine I’d ask like this, I, I - fuck.”

“Are you stuttering?” Jax whispered. His brain was numb, confused, stunned.“Did you just swear?”

“I…” Isaak just stared at him, expressive eyes shining with anxiety. “I’m asking, Jax,” he repeated, voice shaking. Jax couldn’t make his vocal chords work, so he just kissed him. Trembling all over, he nodded. “Really?” Isaak’s voice broke. 

“Yeah, really,” Jax giggled and kissed him again. 

Isaak let out a stream of curses in his native Russian and hugged Jax so tight he squeaked. Jax nuzzled his face down in Isaak’s hair, breathing in deeply, his mind still trying to catch up to the last thirty seconds. 

“Did this really just happen?” Jax whispered. 

“Yeah,” Isaak whispered back. 

“You’re crying.” 

“I am,” Isaak nodded. 

“I love you.” 

#

 

“You look like you’re keeping secrets,” Gemma whispered to Jax. Most of the guys in the plane were sleeping. The sky was pitch black outside, but Jax couldn’t sleep. Jax just gave her a small smile. “Looking like the cat ate-the canary.”

Ladies and gentlemen, we are making a short stop to refill our tanks. Please remain seated and do not exit the aircraft.

“Where are we?”

“New York,” Jax replied, recognising the city lights. 

“You gonna wake him up?” she asked, gesturing to Isaak. 

“Nah. No point in giving the guy more jet-lag than he already has.” 

“He travel a lot?” 

“Jumping three time-zones at least twice a week.”

“Damn. That’s got to be hard.” 

“He was a sniper for a decade,” Jax softly played with Isaak’s fingers. He gave him mom a foxy look, “He’s not actually asleep. He’s just zoning out.” 

 

Gemma looked at Isaak doubtfully, “How can you tell?”

“His breathing,” Jax said softly. “He makes more noise when he sleeps. When he’s like this, he’s so still, if I didn’t know what a dead guy looks like, he’d scare crap out of me.”

“That’s weird.”

“Yeah, I know.” 

Jax bit back a giggle as Isaak, without seemingly waking up, shrugged the divider up and pulled Jax into his side. Jax slid down and sprawled across the seats, getting comfortable, as it looked like the older man had a fairly firm grip on him. 

Gemma watched her son fondly as his eyes slid shut. A few minutes later the flight attendant came through the cabin with a blanket that was clearly not standard issue, and draped it over her son. 

 

“Would you like anything?” she asked quietly. 

“Some vodka.” 

The Flight attendant chuckled, “In that case, why don’t you come with me to the bar. This is a Russian aircraft. We have a liberal selection.” 

Gemma smiled. 

 

#

 

At the airstrip, the Sons hopped off the private plane and made their way across the tarmac to the Belfast charter whom were waiting for them with bikes for them, but Isaak was trailing behind.

“You’re not coming?” Jax asked. 

“I believe my presence will only increase tensions with the…” Jax could tell Isaak was struggling to get the word out, “-kings.” He snorted. 

“I will fly to London for a meeting, but I will be back either tomorrow or the day after.” Isaak knew Jax wouldn’t ask, but he told him anyhow. “I’m meeting the Kremlin supplier. As a how of respect, and thanks for his action without demanding answers first.”

Jax nodded, “Yeah, that’s… tell him I’m grateful. Even if…” he exhaled sharply, not wanting to think about the possibility of failure. “I’ll miss you.” 

Isaak quirked a smile. “It’s only a day. Maybe I’ll go shopping for a little something-”

“Don’t you dare!” Jax chided, “We’re going together.” 

“You hate shopping.”

Jax was about to retort, but Isaak had a point. “Fine,” he said and took a step down the stairs, “But no Harley’s.” 

Isaak chuckled, “No Harley’s.” As if. He dropped a kiss on his head and ushered him down the stairs. 

 

#

 

A few days later, Jax was trying really hard to keep his temper in check. Isaak had returned, but was staying at the Europa. If he’d been less pissed off he would have found Isaak’s refusal to impose on Maureens hospitality absolutely hilarious. For his visit to the club house, he had toned down the usually GQ ready style. Which meant he had taken off his tie. Again, at any other time, Jax found have found Isaak’s posh politeness hilarious. Isaak had quietly told him that he had slept on enough floors to last a lifetime. He had followed up with that he was too damn old to be, in essence, legally squatting when there were perfectly acceptable accommodations available at the hotel. 

Isaak would do almost anything for Jax, but he had to draw the line somewhere. 

“I’m sorry this happened, Jax,” Rourke said, “But this is not our conflict.”

Clay growled, “You serious with this shit. You’re shitting on twenty years, because Jimmy O and Kellan won’t cop to where they stowed Abel away?”

“That’s going too far-” Jimmy O’Phalean cut him off, but O’Phalean himself was cut off by the door opening and an old man walked in, several armed men at his back. 

“Gentlemen,” he spoke, heavy Russian accent, making his words sharp and drawling. 

“Mr. Valskov,” Rourke rose. “We were not notified you were coming. This is not a good time-”

“This is a perfect time,” Mr. Valskov spoke slowly. “I came personally as a courtesy. To let you know that the decision to end our agreement was not a personal one. It came from far above my head.”

“There is nothing you can do? Your supply is the lifeblood to our cause.” 

“I am afraid it is in your hands,” Mr. Valskov said and turned to leave.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Jimmy exclaimed. 

“Return a child to his father,” the Russian spoke. “Or you will find that Volke’s anger has consequences” 

Jimmy scoffed, “Volke is nothing but a boogeyman. You come to our door with threats from your imaginary friend. The Russian Wolf. Nothing but a fairy tale made to make cowardly men obey.”

Mr. Valskov smiled, looking like a shark baring its many rows of teeth. “Oh, Jimmy O. I do not need to make idle threats to put the fear of god into this table. Let me repeat myself, I came as a courtesy, giving you a few hours to right your wrong. Volke will wipe you out, one by one, city by city, until the child is returned. One life for every fifteen minutes, starting at midnight.” He made a show of looking at his watch. “You have three hours and sixteen minutes before one of you dies.” 

“Seems like your man called in some big favours,” Chibs whistled. 

Valskov chuckled, “Isaak Sirko does not asks favours, Scotsman.” As he left, he tipped his hat towards Jax, “Jackson.” 

“You’re telling me that these sanctions came from Sirko himself,” Rourke asked. As the Russian quietly closed the door behind himself, all eyes turned to Jax. “Got something to add, lad?” Rourke growled. 

“No,” Jax said, biting back his anger. “I gave you every opportunity to sort this out civilly, without bloodshed. You forced my hand. Made me go outside the club for a solution.” 

“Sirko is a little above your pay grade, boys. How did you get through to him? What kind of price did you pay for this favour?” 

Jax stood and straightened his kutte. “I know I’m just John Teller’s kid. You don’t know me.” he said softly. “But you know him. The question you should be asking is how far he’s willing to go when you made it personal.” 

 

#

When the clock passed midnight, Jax couldn’t get a hold of Isaak. By 01.15 am, Kellan Ashby was dead, along with five other IRA shot-callers, one of them a king. 

At 01.58 Jimmy O’Phalean showed up at the clubhouse with Abel, pale and smeared in blood. He looked haunted and scared. “Just get the fuck out of Belfast,” he rasped. 

As he was heading back to his car, a whizzing sound passed through the air and pierced though Jimmy’s left eye, blowing out the back of his scull. Jax knew who was behind that rifle and for some reason, the only thing he thought in that moment was that at least Isaak had the decency not to shower him in brains. 

 

#

Jax ditched the party and took Abel straight to the hotel. Coming up to Isaak’s room, he came in as his fiancee came out of the bathroom, ruffling a towel through his hair. “Love, I filled the bath for you. The water should be cool enough for Abel.”

Jax’s eyes drifted to the rifle-case neatly tucked behind the door. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I know.” 

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would have done if I lost him. 

“I know, dear.” 

“Did you kill all of them?” 

“I did.”

“That’s…”

“I was a specialist sniper for over a decade Jax. You asked me how I decide if someone lives or dies. I always pick the other guy.” Jax realised he was shaking badly. Abel was cooing happily at chest. “C’mon, let’s get you two cleaned up and in bed. I think we could all sleep some gray hairs away before flying home tomorrow.”

 

#


	8. Chapter 8

The morning sunlight flooding the hotel suite. Jax was curled on his side on the bed and Abel was tucked in by his chest. Isaak had not really slept. He was quite wired after the night activities, but did not want to leave his boys alone. 

Isaak tensed as he heard quiet, but unfamiliar footsteps. Carefully he slid his arm out from underneath Jax’s head, receiving a sleepy complaint in return. He pulled on a pair of briefs and grabbed a gun from his drawer. He did not make a habit of having weaponry around, as he had security, but considering he’d wiped out a significant part of the IRA the night before, it was a reasonable precaution. 

Walking out, he saw that the person who had walked in was Gemma. “Mrs. Morrow,” he put down the gun. “You could have called and be greeted with coffee, rather than a gun.”

“Fit for your age,” Gemma nodded to his bare chest. 

Isaak rolled his eyes. “Jax and Abel are sleeping.” 

Gemma nodded, “Let them sleep.” 

“Breakfast?”

“I’d like that. The SAMBEL special isn’t exactly wholesome for your health.” 

 

#

“When I said you were a dark horse, I didn’t realise how right I was,” Gemma said. “The boys… they might be smart, but they’re not the kind of smart where they can see how shit is connected. You were the one who killed all those people yesterday. The sniper.”

Isaak’s lip quirked and he sipped his coffee. “You are indeed a bit quicker on the uptake than your husband.” 

“Kellan Ashby. Was that necessary?” 

“He was the one to run the illegal adoption. He was the one who took Abel from Maureen. He was the one to encourage Jax’s father to have an affair- an affair that led to… consequences.” He handed her a file. “A part of taking Abel was- in his mind, to make up for the sorrow he caused. He wanted one Teller to grow up away from the violence. The length he was willing to go to…”

“He needed to die.” 

Isaak nodded. “He was the type of man that could whip up a war on nothing but ideology and imagined insults, while real damage would slide by unnoticed.” 

Gemma nodded, “Agreed. But guns is a big part of SAMCRO. That relationship. Clay isn’t going to give it up.”

“He doesn’t have to. Jax will.” 

Gemma frowned, “Will you make him? Your lifestyles aren’t exactly compatible.” 

Isaak saw a flicker of movement in a reflection. “I will not make Jackson do anything he doesn’t want to. I have never brought up, nor pushed his departure from the club, and I never will. Both because I don’t have a leg to stand on in regards to any of his concerns. Do I want him to leave the club? Yes, I do. But I also know that should I taint the independence of that decision in any way, he will never be sure if his action was to please me, or to please himself, and that, Gemma, is a recipe for disaster. Both for his safety, relationships, his own mental health and ability to parent.”

“And you will lay off, even if his choice doesn’t end in your favour? You seemed like a man who is used to getting his way.” 

“You seem to have a skewered view of what I want, if you think forcing Jax’s hand will achieve that.” 

“And what do you want?”

Isaak chuckled. “I already have what I want. I’ve had what I wanted for a long time. Jackson by my side. However that looks in its practical reality.” 

“You saying you don’t have an interest in playing house?” 

“My schedule won’t be any different from before. Whether I stop in Charming or in Los Angeles makes little difference to me.”

“That’s a five hour drive.”

“Time well spend in conference calls,” he joked. 

“So what does that future look like?” Gemma asked, “Will you get a place of your own? Jax’s house? Live together? Marriage on the horizon or are you planning the bachelor when-in-town cohabitation lifestyle that no one talks about like they did when we were kids?” 

 

Isaak chuckled, not the slightest bothered by Gemma’s interrogation. “That discussion is best left to Jax and myself.”

“I have a right to know. He’s my son. Abel is my grandson.”

“Hm.” Isaak’s smile slid from his face, but the warmth in his expression remained, even as the lines around his eyes grew sharper. “Given the recent situation I will forgive your insistent invasion into an area of mine and Jax’s life that are not yours to interfere in. But make no mistake, Mrs. Morrow, it is not something I will tolerate for long.”

“I-”

“I never took the time for an in-depth conversation with Wendy, about your effect upon their marriage, but I am not a impressionable young junkie. You will always be Jacksons mother, and Abel’s grandmother, but you do not have any place in our relationship. And should you or your husband interfere beyond your station, I will not take kindly to it.”

“And how do you think Jax will take you threatening his mother?”

That actually make Isaak laugh, “I think he will wonder what you did to piss me off. I am not threatening you. I am telling you the lay of the land.”

“And why did you feel the need to do that?”

“Because you walked in here without announcing your presence. It would be quite an effort to circumvent my security, the hotel security, steal a key… when you could have just announced yourself at the reception.”

“I’m no good with strangers.”

“And I am too damn old for amateur power-plays. You are trying to impress upon me that your own whatever space Jax inhabits. No matter what, no space is off limits to you. You are the queen-mother, and Jax is your prince. But this is not your kingdom. You have no power here.”

“I always have power,” she sat back with a smirk. “I ain’t gonna let you shove me out-”

“I’m not shoving you out. You are disrespecting reasonable boundaries. This is not a point I will compromise on. I hope to have an amicable relationship with you in the future, but that future does not include -”

“Me?”

“-underminding security measures-” Isaak continued with letting himself be cut off, “-disrespecting my space and turning my life into a soap opera of unnecessary drama and fits of pique.” 

“Listen here-” Gemma raise her voice. 

Isaak blinked. “Please see her out,” he told Jurg, who had slipped into the suite quietly. “We will see you at the airport.” 

When he came into the bedroom, he was that Jax was awake. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Enough to know my mom was baiting you,” Jax said and pushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“And how did I do.”

“She’s gonna be a nightmare. But you were badass. Is it weird that I find you standing up to my mom way more badass than culling the IRA?”

“That is slightly weird,” Isaak nodded. 

Jax laughed. “But seriously. You’re right. I’m not fifteen anymore, and she drove Wendy crazy just walking into our place like she owns it.” Isaak muttered something under his breath. “I love it when you’re grumbly and sassy.” Jax purred. 

Isaak shot him a side-eye but laid down on the bed. He stole a kiss, and then he rolled over to the nightstand and fished out a jewelry box.

“Please tell me you didn’t ignore me and get a Harley,” Jax joked. 

Isaak gave a brief, slightly nervous smile. “Cheap Harley. I listened. Mostly.” 

Jax rolled his eyes. “Let me see what you picked?” Isaak opened the box to reveal two pink bands. Jax cocked his head. “Didn’t know metals could be pink,” he said and picked up his ring. The smaller one obviously being his. “It’s really nice,” he said thoughtfully. He hadn’t expected to like something pink so much. It was geometric and had a no-nonsense structured design. He tipped it on its side, “Is that a T?”

Isaak smiled. “Rose gold, and yes, that is a T.” 

“For?”

“Teller, silly boy.” He took the ring and let Jax’s hand rest in his own. Jax felt his stomach do somersaults when the cool metal settled in its proper place. “It is gold, with a small percentage of silver and copper for colour and durability. It is the strongest precious metal alloy. I found it suitable. For us.”

“It won’t match my collars,” Jax teased. 

“Purposefully,” Isaak said seriously. “It will stand out from everything else. From your fathers’ rings, from the collars. Because our marriage…” he pulled Jax closer, “-will be separate, independent. You, me and Abel.” Dropping a kiss he sighed, “Through hardships, politics, work and childrearing-” 

“You and me,” Jax finished for him. 

Isaak sighed again, feeling peaceful, “You and me.”

“Kinda wish you didn’t kick my mom out.”

Isaak eye-rolled so hard it hurt his head and dropped back on the bed. 

Jax laughed, “cause I can’t do what I want to you with a baby in the bed.”

Isaak paused for a moment. “Jurg can watch him?” 

It was Jax’s turn to roll his eyes. He grabbed the ring box and pulled Isaak’s ring out. “Gimme your paw,” he purred. Sliding the ring onto his hand was a pretty fucking special feeling. Isaak’s stomach was flipping around like a salmon in a waterfall. It was an unfamiliar feeling, but he supposed it would be. He had never wanted to marry anyone before. He had never truly wanted to spend the rest of his life with anyone before. 

With all the horrible shit he’d done in his life, should he be one of the lucky ones?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you guy have no idea how much your reviews keep me going in these dark times of uni thesis writings. love you all!


	9. Chapter 9

Back in Charming, Isaak had taken Abel to the hospital for a check up with Tara and the Sons had gathered at the clubhouse. “Jax,” Clay said and pulled his son aside, “I understand you and Opie had some harsh words before Belfast. It wasn’t the time to talk about it, but now… I think the table should have that conversation before half of us go inside for fifteen months.”

Jax nodded tersely, immediately feeling a bit anxious at the thought of facing the table. 

“Jax,” Clay could see the tension radiation form his VP, “My question is why you kept it hidden all this time. How long it’s been going on-”

“I-” 

“You don’t have to answer now. I get you have your reasons. I’m just giving you a few minutes to get your head together for some tough conversation.” 

“Thanks, Clay. I’m gonna need that. I’ll be inside in a minute.” Clay nodded and headed inside. 

Jax flipped his phone open and speed-dialed Isaak. 

Isaak picked up immediately, “Yes, love?” 

“The table wants to talk. I’m nervous as shit.” 

Isaak hummed on the other end. “Of course you are, sunshine. Just be as honest as you can. It is all you can do.” 

“Will you be here later?”

“Are you that afraid?” 

“Yeah, I am,” Jax’s voice cracked. 

“I’ll drop by your mother with Abel, so we can have the evening?”

“She won’t expect that after the Cold War brewing.”

Isaak chuckled. “Like I told her, I have no interest in war, just defined borders.” 

“That’s the same as a declaration of war to her.” 

“I can deal with your mother.” Isaak paused before he added; “Or have Jurg deal with your mother.” Jax bit back a laugh, but Isaak heard it. “You and Abel are all I care about, darling.” 

“I’ll see you at home then?”

“Might be a little later if I’m dropping off Abel. How about I pick you up?” 

“Yeah, do that. I gotta head inside,” Jax said as he saw Chibs waving at him from the doorway. “Bye.” 

“Later, love.”

 

#

Jax closed the door to church and walked around the table. He felt every eye on him as he sat down. The gavel landed, and today, even though Clay was no more heavy handed than usual, the strike felt sharper. 

“I know some of you have some thoughts about the happenings of the last week. I’ve heard some murmurings. Some felt the need to air their feeling before we left for Belfast. I think it’s best any questions are not left festering while we’re inside…” He got a new nods and murmurs. “Because of some of the things I’ve heard, I feel compelled to remind you shitheads that you’re talking to the VP of SAMCRO, my son.” He gave Opie a hard look. “I’ll start; why didn’t you tell us? Why wait so long?”

“There are a lot of reasons,” Jax said slowly, feeling both sad and thoughtful. “Some concerning the club, but most of them personal. The bylaws factored into it, but… honestly, all it did was that it forced me to think seriously about what I was doing. About Isaak…”

“But it ain’t about that guy, Jackie,” Chibs said, “How long have your been carrying this burden around?” Jax looked at him in confusion. “I already had a brother back in Scotland who offed himself because he found out he liked other lads. I freaks me out that you walked around struggling with this shit without anyone of us noticing, without anyone to talk to.”

“I wasn’t… really struggling all that much, Chibs,” Jax said, thinking hard about that time. “I was just figuring shit out. I needed to spend a lot of time inside my own head and… how the fuck could you know? It was the same time as Wendy got pregnant and we decided to divorce- same fucking day, actually. I had a lot to think about. And I wasn’t alone. I had Wendy and Donna. Talking to them gave me a lot of perspective. But at the end… it was a big deal. It was a big deal to me. In the beginning it was more…” he paused. “I just went out for a ride, ended up in Sacramento. I stopped at a bar and after a while this guy sits down next to me. He blew my brains out-”

“TMI, bro,” Juice snorted.

“Not literally, dipshit,” Jax sniped back. Then he cocked his head, “Well, literally as well, but that was later-” that got a few laughs. “I told Wendy.”

“Bet she was pissed.”

“No,” Jax shook his head, “She thought it was funny as shit. After a while she told me to get my shit together and call him. He was already back in Kiev, but… he got in touch when he was back in Cali.” Jax lit a smoke and took a deep drag. “Most of the time I was just trying to figure out what was going on in my own head. I’d never looked at a guy twice and then Isaak just…”

“Blew your mind?” Tig supplemented with a faux innocent look on his face.

Jax rolled his eyes. “Got me so caught up. It was not serious to start with. He knew I was figuring my shit out and he was in the country barely five days a month at best.” He tipped the ash of smoke and sighed, “My head was still spinning around the… gay thing. A big part of me thought the novelty would wear off and things would be back to normal, but… at one point seeing him from being a bit of fun to a legitimate relief. I started counting the days. My own insecurity with myself, with Isaak. I wanted… to not feel like I was being tossed from one extreme to another. Kid in the hospital, Mayans, fuckin’ Irish” he gestured to the table, “And complete peace.” Jax paused, not knowing how to say this next part. “Every time I came back… I just felt more lonely. Isolated.” Jax snorted to himself, “I guess I was struggling. I… and we were just treading water on so many fronts, it never seemed important enough…”

Chibs nodded, “So not since always? Isaak’s the only guy…?”

“I was completely blindsided,” Jax said. “Like I got mowed down by a fucking wrecking ball.”

Bobby spoke up, “Do you love this guy, Jax?”

Jerkily, Jax nodded. “I do,” he said, his voice raw. “I really do.” 

“You see yourself spending the rest of your life with him?” Bobby asked. “Him being a father to your kid? Raising him when you’re inside?”

“You think he got what it takes to deal with Gemma?” Clay asked, only half joking, making Jax smile a little. “The way he dealt with Abel’s situation. Admirable. But long term, do you think he’s got what it takes?”

“Bobby, to answer your questions; yes, yes and yes. Clay, he can handle mom. Masterfully. It must be the pissed off Russian in them connecting on some level. Them two yelling at each other is tha” 

“And long term? With the club?”

“He’s in it for the long haul, I know that. He doesn’t give a shit about the club. Mom already put him through the ringer on this: he’s not interested and he doesn’t care. He already has what he wants and to him, everything else is just logistics.” 

“Everyone has a line,” Bobby said, “There is a reason we’re all divorced - except Clay.” 

“He doesn’t have a line that will make him leave,” Jax said, “He has a line for when he gets involved. That line is when our business blows back on him or Abel, or if it gets personal with me.”

“And what does him involving himself look like?” 

“Well… as far as I’ve seen, it usually goes along the lines of giving people one chance to sort out their shit before he blows their brains out.”

“Like blow, or -” Tig couldn’t help himself. 

Jax rolled his eyes. “Look, Isaak’s business is his own. He’s well connected and when he feels it’s necessary, like with Abel, he will dip into those connections in a big way. But otherwise, like I said, he doesn’t give a shit, has no interest and won’t be involved. He’s not swapping his craft-vodka for beer on tap.”

“And if he by proxy of his connection to you becomes involved? You think he can take the pressure?”

“Like I said, it takes a lot to rock his boat and the ATF sure as shit don’t carry the weight to make him sweat.”

“He’s a soft pawed city-slicker,” Opie said, “He was MIA most of the time in Belfast. He might look strong in a suit, but put him in a room with Stahl, he’s crack.”

“He grew up a gay orphan kid in the fucking USSR,” Jax snapped, having no rope left for Opie’s tone. “He was drafted at sixteen and spent thirty years in the military. You want to know why he wasn’t around in Belfast?” Jax stood up and his voice rose to a shout as he did. “It’s because he was busy allocating bullets to the fucking gangsters of God that kept my son hostage!” Jax was red faced and pissed off. “You got something to say to me Ope, say it, but you leave Isaak the fuck alone. He hasn’t done a damned fucking thing to deserve your shit.” 

“He hasn’t done anything, uh?” Ope challenged. “I was inside when you started seeing him. I saw how it changed you. I saw the bruises he put on you. I didn’t offer it much of a thought then, because a chick couldn’t do that. Though it was a club scuffle. But a guy his size? And I know it’s him. You always have fresh ones coming back from your trips.” Opie turned to Chibs, “You said none of use noticed, but I did.” He turned back to Jax, who was looking at his brother with wide, scared and angry eyes. “The way he talks to you. Orders you. He just walks in and your world narrows down to whatever he decides. It never entered your mind to leave the club before you met him. You bled SAMCRO, before he made you bleed for him. That cuff on your wrist,” Jax pulled his left arm behind him reflexively, hiding the silver collar cuffed around his wrist. “I know what that is,” Opie said in a dark, angry voice, “I know what that is, and I’ll be damned if I let him put that on you.” 

 

Jax didn’t know what the hell to say. He just stared at Ope. It made him feel sick that his best friend since they were in diapers would look at his cuff, an object as precious to him as his kutte, and talk about it like it was some sort of cattle brand. “So now I’m not just a paid for whore playing housewife, now I’m a paid for whore playing an abused housewife. Glad to know you think so highly of me brother.” 

“Don’t deflect.” 

“I’m not deflecting. I’m shutting you down.” His voice was shaking as much as the rest of him. His entire body was vibrating with tension. 

“You sit down at this table with a fucking slave collar welded onto your arm, it’s my fucking business.”

“The fuck you talking about man?” Juice scoffed, “It’s a fucking cuff.” 

Opie moved faster than Jax could pull away. He grabbed his arm and roughly twisted the soft silver. With a strong pull, making Jax shout in pain as it cut deeply into his arm, the metal warped and the latch broke. Bobby pushed at Ope, but the younger Son was twice his size in height, if not width. 

“I don’t speak fucking Russian, but I’m pretty sure that,” Ope dropped the mangled metal on the table, “-says Isaak Sirko.” 

Исаак Сирко

Ope could feel Jax trembling, but didn’t let him go when he tried to pull away. After a few half-hearted attempts, Jax kicked him in the shin and took advantage of Opie’s momentary pained distraction to shake him off. He snatched the broken cuff off the table and before anyone could grab him again, he slipped between Tig and Chibs and was halfway through the bar before the guys got their shit together enough to follow him. 

#

In the parking lot, Isaak had barely gotten out of his town car before he had an armful of blond, bleeding and upset mess of a lover. He pulled Jax’s arm up, seeing it was deeply cut and lacking one precous silver cuff. “What happened?” he asked, worried. Jax didn’t answer. He just showed Isaak the mangled silver and burrowed into his chest, trembling and nose pinking as he held back tears. Isaak looked up to see the other Sons come out of the clubhouse. Taking the broken collar from Jax’s shaking hand, he opened the car door “Get in the car, sweetheart” he said firmly and gave Jax a gentle usher. When Isaak closed the door, Jurg had the good sense to also lock it. 

As the group of men crossed the parking lot, Isaak studied the bloody metal in his hand and felt anger brew in a way he’d normally say it hadn’t in a long time, but people seemed to be taking pot-shots at his family lately. He took a deep breath and gave the Sons a killer-sharp smile. “Boys, care to explain.”

“I think you’re the one who has some explaining to do,” Clay said. “You put a slave collar on my son?”

“You took this off?” Isaak asked, holding up the bloody metal. 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Jackson is bruised and bleeding. I don¨t give a fuck about your questions,” Isaak said crisply, smile never leaving his face. 

“I did,” Ope stepped forward. “I saw what it was. Called him out on it. Took it off him.”

Isaak cocked his head. “Did you care to ask him if he wanted to take it off?” 

“I didn’t need to. I know what it is.” 

Isaak turned to Ope. “If you truly know what this is, then you would know that there are consequences to your actions. It is a shame really, this one was his favourite.” 

Ope bared his teeth, “Bring it.” 

And Isaak was aching to lay it into the kid, but this particular situation called for a different reaction. “Who do you think I am, child?” he asked, half laughing. 

“You just don’t have the balls.”

Isaak’s smile widened, “Here is what I have the balls to do, kid. I’m taking Jax with me, have his wounds stitched up, and put a collar on him that you can’t tear off.” Isaak side-stepped as Ope lunged at him. Isaak turned to Clay. “Jackson will be taking his requested leave now.”

“You can’t just take him-” Chibs said. 

“That’s the thing with these collars,” Isaak replied. “Until Jax says otherwise, I decide.” 

“You’re not going anywhere with him,” Ope said. 

Isaak ignored him, walked around the car and as Jurg unlocked the one door, he got in. Jurg locked the door again before anyone got a hold of the handle and drove out of the lot leaving the Sons to watch as they turned the corner towards St. Thomas. 

#


	10. Chapter 10

“Oh my god,” Tara gasped, “What happened?” It wasn’t that the cut looked so bad that it shocked her, it was that Jax was pale as a sheet. That said, the cut was certainly deep enough to warrant a decent amount of stitches, which also worried her. 

Isaak was perfectly aware of how this might look to the surgeon, so he asked, “Would you like me to wait outside?” 

Tara paused, not expecting the offer. “Yes,” she finally said. Isaak untangled himself from Jax, muttering a few calming words and dropping a kiss on his nose before he closed the door to the examination room behind him. Tara immediately got to work and put a local in Jax’s arm. “What happened?” she asked. “Did a scene go wrong?”

Jax shook his head, “Was Ope,” he stuttered quietly. “He tore my collar o-off…”

“Your-? Oh. You told the club?” 

“Not about that. Ope just… saw it and knew what it was, and…”

Tara got the point. “Does Isaak know it was him?” She got a nod for an answer. “Can I expect Ope coming in later? Isaak must have been furious.” 

“He just took me here,” Jax said quietly. “Didn’t engage.” 

“That’s surprisingly mature for a man,” Tara joked. “Usually these things get sorted out with fists rather than brains. It’s good that he puts your wellbeing over his impulses. That’s the kind of man that’s a keeper.” 

Jax exhaled sharply, “Thank you,” he said, tears forming once again. 

“For what?” 

“For seeing that he loves me.”

“And that you love him,” Tara supplemented. “Y’know. Most Doms would have taken in as a personal offense that I insisted to check you regularly. He just saw me as a friend looking out for you, and accepted it for what it was. Now, he knew what this looked like, and stayed outside so we could talk. He loves you Jax, I can see that clear as day. But more than love, he cares for you. Most guys, they’ll swallow a few camels and put their ego aside, but him? He loves you so much his ego doesn’t even enter the equation. I’ll say it however often you need to hear it, as long as I see it to be true, and I see that he’s good for you.” 

“I love you Tara.” 

 

“I love you too, Jax.” 

 

#

 

The crew had been taken in by the ATF for their fifteen month stint in Stockton later that afternoon, and Gemma was now in an anklet for a year. For the first month she wasn’t allowed to leave her house, but after that she had a five miles radius. It sucked but it was okay as that encompassed the garage and Jax’s house. 

“Is everything okay with you?” Gemma asked Chibs. Chibs was thoughtful and moody as he was sitting on her couch, watching Lyla and the prospect entertain the children. When he didn’t reply, Gemma asked, “Club business?” 

Chibs shrugged. He really didn’t know. “Ope and Jax got into it pretty bad. We were talking about Isaak.”

“I know Opie was a bit ticked off,” Lyla said, “He didn’t say about what though.” 

“How much do you know about BDSM?” Chibs asked her. 

Lyla shrugged, “I’m not an expert, but given my profession, probably more than most.” 

“How does it work? Like, in real life?”

Lyla blinked, “Wow, that’s… a big question. Can I get some background info?” 

Chibs jerked his head for the prospect to get lost. When he was out he explained. “Ope has been seeing some bruises and shit on Jax and said that Isaak had been laying into him.”

“What?” Gemma gasped. 

“Said Jax never thought of leaving the club before he met Isaak and… said that Jax sitting down at the SOA table with a slave collar, made that our business… and I don’t know what to make of it.” 

“What happened? What did Jax say?” 

“He didn’t say anything. Ope tore the cuff off his wrist. Jax flipped out, and ran out of there like a bat out of hell. Isaak was out in the parking lot, and he was… pissed. Didn’t let any of us talk to Jax. Think he took Jax to get his arm stitched up.” 

“Ope tore off his collar? What kind of collar?” 

“Looked silver. Didn’t look like anything special. Had Isaak’s name inscriber on the inside of it.”

“Oh,” Layla looked sad, “That’s not a slave collar, Chibs. Slave collars are always around your neck, usually leather or a chocker of some kind. Look, for serious DS practitioners, collars aren’t given lightly. You have to earn them. Jax had to earn the right to wear it, and Isaak had to earn the right to put it on him. That… can take years. And there are different kinds, like play collars, they don’t mean anything, they’re just for fun- the kind we use on set. You got collars, like… they show your intention, or training collars- if you’re at an events they show that you’re either spoken for, not interested or in training with someone. Propositional collars; some just like to wear them, and show that they don’t have a dom, but they’d like one. And then you have your claiming collars. They can be anything, bracelet, anklet, ring, choker, pendant, always precious metal. Always expensive. They show that this sub is completely off limits and you will have your head ripped off if you touch them. They’re more discreet because they’re not there to advertise or make a statement. They’re… like a wedding band. A permanent claim.” 

“Ope had to break it to get it off. Was welded on he said.”

Lyla nodded, “You can’t just put a collar onto someone. They have to want it, and accept it. A lot of couples even have ceremonies.” 

“And the bruises?” 

“I don’t know this guy, so I can’t say Ope isn’t right, but some bruises are a lot of the time a byproduct of play. Only Jax can answer that. Jax is as light skinned as I am, and I bruise easily. The difference between a d/s arrangement and abuse, be in physical, mental and so on, is consent. If d/s, then Isaak only acts within the limits Jax sets for him.”

“Even if it doesn’t seem like it?”

“You don’t know what they talk about behind closed doors. Sometimes being a good Dom means you have to make the choices your sub wants to, but for whatever reason can’t.” 

“Like taking Jax away from SAMCRO?” Chibs said quietly.

“Didn’t Jax talk about going nomad for a while, to get some breathing room? If his first experience talking to the table about Isaak ended up with him getting his collar torn off… it would be like someone tearing that kutte off your back, Chibs. I don’t know him well enough to say what he’ll do, but don’t be surprised if you don’t see him for a long time.” Layla sighed, “So this guy of his? It just a contract or romantic?” 

“I think it’s fair to say, our Jackie-boy has Mr. Isaak Sirko by the balls. Said he loved him. Isaak… ain’t done nothing to imply otherwise.” 

“Isaak Sirko? The guy who owns Lux?” Layla asked. 

“What’s Lux?” 

“Like the most high-end bdsm club in L.A. He’s got clubs all over the world, but his Dubai and Moscow houses are legendary, but they say the L.A. house is special because he named it Lux, after the light of his life. LuAnn took Ima and I last year, as her biggest earners. She’d been on the waiting list since before it opened. It was a huge deal. It was the classiest place I’ve ever been in my life.” 

“I find that hard to believe,” Gemma said dryly. 

“It’s not like a regular fetish club.” Lyla defended, “It’s a regular club, but aimed towards those involved in the lifestyle. Like, you are expected to know the etiquette and they make allowances that normal clubs don’t make-”

“Like?” 

“Like the subs are allowed to nap if they’re tired. The guards look after them if they’re alone so they sleep safely. There are areas where Subs can be alone where Doms aren’t allowed to go. I heard that even the owner never stepped a foot in there. Drug free zone, alcohol tightly controlled. A few show-rooms, a few play-rooms. Fetish stuff is always with supervision. It’s like heaven on earth if you just need… space.”

“For a price, I presume.”

“The entrance fee is hefty, but no, not the type of price you’re talking about. Sex doesn’t have to be a part of it at all…”

“So if I head over to Jax’s house now…”

“If Isaak tells you to leave, leave,” Lyla advised. “Mr. Sirko… he’s the real deal, Chibs. At Lux, they talk about Jax. Not by name but… you wouldn’t think they were talking about Jax Teller,” Lyla said meaningfully. 

“What do you mean?” 

“They literally call him Lux, because Mr. Siko always call him Sunshine. I remember wishing I could have met him. They said he was the perfect Sub,” Lyla smiled. “Has Mr. Sirko wrapped around his finger. There were rumors floating around he could go into subspace almost on command,” her eyes flickered to the side. 

Gemma snorted, “What a joke.” 

Lyla frowned, “It’s not something to joke about, Gemma.”

“Subspace is fucking rare, I know that much.”

“Some subs are special,” Lyla said softly. “With the right Dom. Lux… Lux is special. Jax is special.”

Gemma’s eyes softened as she saw the shift in Lyla’s emotions. “You had one?” 

She nodded sadly. “Piper’s dad.” 

“That where your addiction came from?” 

She bit her lip, shamed. “It was hard when he died.”

“LuAnn said quite a few of her subs turned to drugs, desperate when their doms couldn’t get it done.” 

“Usually its a fluke. Once or twice. Some Doms are good. Real good. But when you’re pros… it’s just a job, and you can’t stick with them. It’s becomes… too taxing to not know if the one you’re doing a scene with that day will be able to do what you need.” 

“Will Jax go down that road?” 

“Jax ain’t a pro, Gemma. He has one Dom. Mr. Sirko taught him, was his first, his only. Everyone knows that. From what I heard, Mr. Sirko takes the lessons slowly, because his sub is so sensitive. Another sub told me she saw him go into subspace just by…” Lyla flushed, “Just by… I can’t I shouldn’t tell you.”

Chibs cocked his head, “Lass, if Jax’s state of mind is as delicate as you say, we should know.” 

Lyla’s cheeks burned, and from the Look on her face, Gemma honestly thought it would be something kinky. “In the Dom’s Lounge, he prefers… he prefers sitting on the furs having his hair stroked. She said Mr. Sirko had to carry him to the Penthouse because he was completely out of it. She’s a regular and she said it had happened several times.”

“That’s not normal?” Chibs asked. 

“Hell no,” Lyla stuttered. “It like… a dream.” 

 

#

 

By the time they made it back to Jax’s house, he was a little bit back to himself again. Isaak was hovering over him like an angry bear and while he just wanted to relax, it also felt nice to have Isaak’s quiet fury validate his own reaction. He always went over things in his head afterwards, finding the perfect things to say. Perfect, smart, deescalating things to say, rather than angry and reactive, or nothing at all. Isaak still being pissed assured him he hadn’t overreacted. He wasn’t acting like a baby and he was in his right to be hurt and angry. 

He held the broken metal still in his hand. “I want to keep it.”

“You don’t want it repaired?” Isaak asked. 

“No. I’ll keep it with the others to remind me,” he said. Isaak didn’t reply, and Jax knew what he was thinking. “I’ll have a wedding ring on soon.” He said enticingly, “And if you want, you can get me another cuff.” He crawled into his lap. “A snugger one. With your name on the outside rim. Perhaps weld it on? Or something so that only a jeweler can take off for polishing.”

“I’ll have something made for you,” Isaak huffed. He felt very, very resentful that his collar had been torn of his lover. Had Jax not been hurt, he would not have had the acumen to keep his temper in check. “I’m not feeling very rational right now,” he said and pulled Jax tightly to him. The doorbell rang. Isaak growled in frustration.

Actually growled. 

“Don’t answer the door,” Jax whispered. 

“Unfortunately people have a tendency to walk into your house uninvited.” 

“You’ve got a point there.” 

“I had a whole lovely evening planned,” Isaak complained as he got up, “To leave you as a puddle of goo on the bed and… urgh-” 

Even though Jax was as disappointed as Isaak was, and his arm hurt, he felt a lightness as his love huffed in irritation. Isaak was always so put together, it felt freeing when he let go and blew off some steam. 

 

#

Chibs honestly did not expect anyone but a pissed off Russian to answer the door, but said pissed off Russian looked a bit bigger in the doorway than he did in the open space of the TM lot. “Just came by to see if Jax is alright?” 

“Twelve stitches. No. He’s not alright.” 

“Damn. Will it scar.”

“Yes.”

“Can I see him.”

“No.” 

Chibs sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for the part I played in this today. I was worried about the lad, about where his head has been at, when he’s been through, all on his own at that. Then the conversation turned too quickly. Got real ugly, real fast. Tell him I’m sorry for not stepping in when Ope got out of line. I just… couldn’t quite believe my ears.”

Isaak glanced over his shoulder to see Jax engrossed on his phone. “He’s evading about what happened. Care to fill me in?”

“Ope said he saw Jax bruised up. Said you abused him. That when Jax sat down at the table with a slave-collar welded on to him, that made it his business…”

Isaak raised a brow. “It was not welded onto him,” he said slowly. “It has a locking mechanism on the inner rim. There really was no need to-” Isaak cut himself off and took a deep breath. The lock was hardly relevant.

“No one had any business touching it at all, let alone taking it off,” Chibs said. “Didn’t understand the big deal then, but I hit up a friend for a 101.”

“Proactive,” Isaak muttered. 

Chibs didn’t fault him for the cold shoulder. “Look, I understand Jax might not want to see any of us right now, but I’d really appreciate if he dropped by before you head of to L.A.. The guys headed off to Stockton earlier and… Clay left a letter for him and the guys have some shit to say that they didn’t get to because-” Chibs gestured.”Yeah…” He cleared his throat. “If not then a forwarding address for that letter and… if he doesn’t want to drop by, he’s welcome home any time, however long that may be. Make sure he knows that. We love him Isaak. I really don’t want today to be the last memory he has of home. We don’t want him to think that… what Ope said is what we all think.” 

Isaak considered the Scotsman carefully, but eventually he nodded. “I’ll make sure he knows.” 

“Thank you,” Chibs gave a brief nod and headed back to his bike, remembering what Lyla said about outstaying his welcome. 

 

Isaak closed the door and went back to the living room. “You heard that love?”

“Yeah,” Jax frowned. “I’ll decide tomorrow.”


	11. Chapter 11

“You ready for this?” Isaak asked. 

“Not at all, but It had to come one day. I can’t live three doors down from my mom all my life,” Jax said and got out of the car. 

“Hail to that,” Isaak muttered. But he refused to feel hope before they were in the car and on their way away from people who didn’t know how to fucking knock. 

“Hi, mom,” Jax greeted as he entered. 

“Hey honey,” Gemma greeted and poured two cups of coffee. “I prepared my Don’t-Leave-Charming-Speech, but Lyla talked me out of it.” 

Jax blinked. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously. I’ve got a speech, but it won’t piss you off,” he gave Isaak a look as he came in. “And it won’t piss your bodyguard off either.” She served them the coffee. “Take that bandage off and let me see what the hell happened.” 

Jax carefully peeled it off and let his mom see Tara’s neat stitches. “Twelve stitches.”

“Damn. You got that from Ope tearing off a bracelet? That’s gonna scar,” 

Jax nodded and refastened the bandage. “Yeah, I have a feeling it will,” he said and sat down. “Your speech.”

“Right. So, you’re leaving. And I understand. It’s been… very tough on you in the last couple of years. Now I know one of the reasons you managed to keep your shit together is this guy. It was a band aid. Now you need the full package. You need the time. You said that even before Cameron took Abel. You take the time. Even if it ain’t just time. A permanent change. All I ask is that you get your asses back here, so I can see my grandkid. And that when this fucking thing-” she shook her leg, “-comes off, I get to visit.” She saw Isaak’s brow twitch. “I’ll call ahead, and I’ll knock.” She sighed. “I don’t want you to go. You’re my only baby. But I know I’m luckier than most moms to have had you so close for so long and… if I make a stink now… I won’t hide that I hope you come back. Permanently.” 

“We won’t be going too far right now,” Isaak said. “We will mainly be staying in Los Angeles. It is a big enough change.” 

Jax nodded, agreeing to that. 

“Will you be dropping by the clubhouse?” she asked Isaak, but it was Jax who answered. 

“No. I don’t really… I don’t want to see anyone right now. I just want to go. Drive through Abel’s nap time.”

“You got a place?”

Isaak gave a brief nod. “With a guest room,” he offered kindly. 

“I can tell you’re on your last nerve,” Gemma commented. “You ain’t good with Jax getting hurt, are you. Makes your skin itch?” Isaak relaxed minutely as she put her finger right on his discomfort. “Jax is a tough kid. Don’t wrap him up in bubble-wrap. He was a needy baby.” 

“He still is,” Isaak smiled and gave Jax a wink. He sroked his hand firmly down Jax’s back and Gemma could swear Jax’s eyes became unfocused as he leaned into the touch.

“Oh my god,” Jax muttered, “I’ll go get his stuff.” 

 

#

 

It was a bit strange walking through a nightclub with a baby in his arms. Granted, it was only the early evening, and they were restocking the bar, but it was still a weird feeling. Normally they wouldn’t go through the bar, but someone had parked their car in front of the lift. Abel was still sleeping soundly by some miracle, but Jax had a feeling he would make it up come bed time. 

The penthouse was flooded with the last sunlight of the day, but blessedly cool. He hadn’t packed a lot of stuff as he had most things he could need here already. It wasn’t like his kutte and hoodie would blend in here. If anything, it would bring unwanted attention to his presence. There was an L.A. charter of the Sons, and Jax was not interested in seeing any of them.

All he was interested in was taking care of his son and taking care of himself. Right now, taking care of himself meant needing some uninterrupted time with his family. 

 

#

Jax laid on his side, head cushioned on his pillow, sheets tangled around his feet. Sunshine flooded through the window, the baby-com was blissfully silent and Isaak was sprawled on his back fast asleep. Jax was just watching him sleep. 

He'd missed this; waking up at his own pace, with the sun. He sighed. Nothing was going down today. Club business was on the other side of the state. Nothing but him and Isaak. He smiled and rolled over to lay on his lover's chest. Isaak blinked, his eyes cloudy and bleary from sleep, but quickly clearing as he saw the blinding white smile, blue eyes and expanses of golden skin greet him. 

Isaak sighed and wrapped his arms around him, gently tucking the blond head under his chin and closed his eyes. Jax giggled and nudged Isaak's chin. Isaak sighed and peeked down at his little nuisance. “Good morning love.”

“Morning,” Jax grinned. “What should we do with my first day of freedom?” 

“Get married?” 

Jax blinked. “Seriously? So soon?” 

“Why not?” Isaak propped himself up on his elbow. “If we wait for your brothers, it will be two years… if you want do wait, we will, but are you that patient?” he ran teasing fingers up his arm. 

Jax bit his lip. Was he that patient? “No, I’m not that patient,” he smiled. 

 

The End


	12. Prompts and challenges

Hi Peeps!

This is a list of mini Jax/Isaak plot-descriptions/ challenges.

 

So, you can either write something of your own - it’s fanfiction, so obviously you can write whatever you want, but I find many are oddly respectful of fanwriters Verses! Or you can co-author a chapter with me, centered around the plot of challenges 11-20. 

 

Anything from full shorts to drabbles!

 

#

 

1)Jax doesn’t make any effort to hide that he’s sleeping with another man. The club doesn’t care because it never touches Charming. What happens when a rival threatens to go after Jax’s lover? 

2)Isaak refused any invitation to the Koshka Brotherhood, and remained a specialised sniper. Jax is in the middle of a fire-fight when his enemies starts dropping. 

3)Isaak is a regular successful business man. He does not care for the violence Jax’s family brings to his life. 

 

4) Vanya has had enough of Isaak’s two-timing. Isaak and Victor might have an understanding, but Jax was innocent, and he’d done nothing to deserve being disposable to someone that he gave all of himself to. When Victor shows up unannounced, Vanya decides she is on a convenient bathroom-break, unavailable to run interference.

5.1) Jax finds out he was born intersexed and that as most babies born this way, he’d been given superficial surgery to resemble his most visible sex. Between questioning his sexuality and finding the only bliss he’d ever known in sexual submission, he feels Isaak’s firm hand is the only thing that keeps him from losing his mind. 

5.2)Gemma has bigger issues with her sons relationship with Isaak than his sexuality. In Jax’s body lies a twenty-five year old secret. Between overzealous surgeons, child services and her fanatically religious father who never accepted Jax, her crazy mother who tried to kill him when he was born, she did the best she could.

5.3)Isaak have always been gay, he never wanted children and loved his lifestyle of mob-boss-arms dealer-bdsm-club-owner. Gemma’s long kept secret resulted in a baby being on the way. The life that was against all odds developing in Jax’s fragile body did not mesh with his lifestyle. He’d been told keeping a pretty thing on the side would bite him in the ass. Victor was going to kill him.

8)Isaak quickly realises he loves Jax and breaks up with Victor. 

9) Pre-series. Isaak loves Jax and wants to give him everything. Jax takes everything he can get because the second the Club find out, they’ll take it all away.

10) Isaak is scouting locations for his new club in Vegas. He is lovingly amused when his sub, tipsy and high from the long week of riding consecutive subspace, drags him into a nightclub chapel. His amusement turn to bone deep, spine chilling fear as he realises he as until the end of Elvis’ very short speech to chose between Jax and Victor. 

11) As a young marine Jax married the dirty Russian sniper Isaak preventive measure so that he couldn’t be forced to testify. Ten years later, Stahl is out to prove the marriage is a sham, so that she can take down both SAMCRO and Koshka Brotherhood with RICO.

12)Jax doesn’t know it, but he is the perfect sub. The perfect sugar-baby, the perfect kitten. He doesn’t know how envied Isaak is for the smiles, the trust and the adoration he gets from his sub. He doesn’t know that some people are more than willing to take him from Isaak forcibly, just to have a tiny taste of that sweetness. The perfect place to take him is the only place Isaak isn’t standing over him like a monolith; Charming. 

13) Sometimes Jax gets a vague feeling Ope is trying to take Isaak’s place. It doesn’t change that Ope just doesn’t have the strength Jax needs. 

15) Isaak blows Jax’s mind with kinks he didn’t know existed, and makes his body sing in a way that leaves his head swimming for days. 

16) Lyla pointed out that people would give a lot of money to watch a sub like Jax with his Dom. Jax is intrigued. Isaak indulges. The club had no idea. 

17) Jax’s need for another child is driving him mad. Isaak looks for a surrogate to ease his pain. 

18) Half-way through her pregnancy, the surrogate sees that Jax is both delighted and in pain. Isaak does his very best, but it is always just pretend. 

19) Their surrogate is giving birth. Jax is so jealous his stomach burns. She will always have something he can never get. 

20) Jax is nesting with his newborn. Isaak indulges.


End file.
